


Hunted

by KittyHawke



Category: Eurovision Song Contest RPF, Festival di Sanremo RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - 19th Century, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, mostly in the background though, some violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2020-05-16 18:24:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 66,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19323616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittyHawke/pseuds/KittyHawke
Summary: A dark past has cast a shadow over a rural community. Fabrizio makes his living in the wilderness where few others dare to tread, and secretly obsesses over a creature that lives in others' nightmares. What happens when dreams become reality in the most unexpected ways?





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the prompt and aesthetic by thedanadelmar, found here, https://thedanadelmar.tumblr.com/post/184530751493/au-where-fabrizio-is-a-professional-hunter. I found it an intriguing idea so decided to play around and see if I could make something out of it.

The chorus of five children spoke as one. “What’s the time, Mr Wolf?”

“It’s four o’clock” said the sixth child, a little dark-haired boy with his face pressed up against a tree trunk.

“One, two, three, four. What’s the time, Mr Wolf?”

He tried to determine how far away they were by their voices. The trick was not to bring them all the way up, because that would allow him to catch only one while the others scattered, but he couldn’t give them too much of a head start either or he might fail to catch any.

“It’s six o’clock” he said. Six steps might bring them close enough to get a better sense of whether it was time to turn.

“One, two, three, four…” By four, their voices were starting to get noticeably louder. Now would be the time. “Five, six. What’s the time, Mr Wolf?”

He paused for a second. In his mind, he envisaged their positions. They must have reached the bottom of the slope by now. The downward angle would give him a boost of speed that would allow him to catch one, maybe two before beginning the chase across flat ground.

“It’s dinner time!”

He spun around, and was surprised to see his friends already running. Three of them were already a quarter of the way across the field. He should sprint after them, yell at them for cheating, but he was too confused to move. He heard the growl behind him and turned slowly, looking into the treeline. For a second, he saw nothing but darkness, and then something moved and he saw the gleam of yellow eyes behind a shrub. It was less than half a metre away.

There was no time to scream.


	2. Chapter 2

The peace of the village was shattered by horrified shrieks. Children came running across the fields, crying “Wolf! Wolf!” They didn't make sense at first, and then they explained that their friend was closest to the wolf and now he was gone. The men went looking for him. They found him a few metres into the trees, covered in blood and torn clothing, and ferried him back to the doctor. It was too late. The boy died.

At the funeral, his mother was pale and stoic, speaking calmly. It was widely agreed that this was an early sign of madness. She never recovered from losing her child. For years she could be seen with her basket, walking through the village, across the fields and into the forest. Some thought she was trying to kill herself, others that she'd forgotten her son was dead and was looking for him. All pitied her.

No-one had been killed by wolves for nearly fifty years. They were hardly ever seen, preferring to run if a human stumbled across them. People lost their lives to cows, horses and dogs. They injured themselves critically with farming implements or collapsed due to overwork. They fell off high places or caught infections. There were such a remarkable number of ways to die in a farming community that it was a wonder anyone made it to their 25th birthday. No-one gave more than a second glance to these deaths, but the loss of a child in such an unusual and exotic way captured the community's imagination.

Children were forbidden to go into the fields. Franco Mobrici, the blacksmith, started selling iron collars to protect the necks of those who had no choice but to walk in the danger zone. Mothers told their children about the big bad wolf who would come and take them if they were naughty. People were wary, but the incident was still something out of the ordinary, a one-off. Security measures began to lapse.

The next to die were two young girls, cousins, who had defied their parents to play hide-and-seek around a frozen pond in the woods. It was right beside a trail commonly used by people from other villages coming to sell their wares at the market. They probably thought they'd be safe there. One of them left a shoe behind, the other left her doll.

Franco Mobrici's iron collars began to sell faster than he could make them. His children were forbidden to leave the house without wearing them. Hunting parties were formed. Wolves were killed.

A young woman from another village reported being stalked through the forest. She didn't see the creature, but she heard it growling. It sounded like a wolf, people agreed. The right beast must still be out there.

Franco Mobrici joined the hunting parties, not because of any ideological hatred of wolves, but because he sensed an opportunity. His sons were taught to shoot and skin the pelts. His wife and daughter made them into jackets and blankets. They sold very well at the market.

A teenage boy was found slaughtered right outside his home, his throat cruelly torn out. Hysteria took over the village. At least if the wolves stayed in the forest, there was a feeling of control. They could avoid the danger if each species stayed in their own section. Now the wolves were coming uncomfortably close to their homes and families. The people panicked and became angry.

The cull began. It was no longer about finding the right wolf, but any wolf. Rewards were offered for carcasses in any condition. Franco Mobrici had a business to run, but his eldest son was old enough and skilled enough to take his place on the hunt. It was a game which taught many skills, among them ruthlessness. There was no time for hesitation. If he didn't get that wolf, his family didn't get that pelt. None of the men he competed with considered making use of the animals. For them, killing was the only objective.

Bonfires were created in the village square and the wolf carcasses would be thrown onto them. There was a carnival mood, a celebration at the demise of the fiendish monsters, and below that was the violent pleasure of revenge. Fabrizio thought it was a waste and a tragedy to see such elegant, mysterious creatures turned to ash. He watched silently, the acrid smoke of burning flesh in his nose, and his mother's arms around him to stop him saying or doing anything. A mob was as wild as a wolf, she said, and antagonising either could get him hurt.

At some point the attacks stopped. They had probably ended some time ago, but only when the hunting parties stopped finding wolves did they declare the terror to be over. There were a few small toasts and then everyone went back to work. Playing around with guns had been a diverting hobby, but it certainly wasn't a sustainable way to make a living, unless you were Fabrizio Mobrici.

He was fourteen years old and had found his calling. Frankly, options for a fulfilling way of life were thin on the ground in this area. His choices were between farming, mining and blacksmithing, none of which appealed. What he really liked to do was paint, which was neither approved of nor financially viable. He had sold only three paintings in the market on a busy Saturday, compared to twelve wolf pelts. The choice was clear.

It helped that he proved to be a good hunter. He was adept at tracking and a great shot. By sixteen his business had expanded beyond his family. The farmers called him in to get rid of animals threatening their livestock or attacking their crops. The butcher got his deer, rabbit and wild boar meat from Fabrizio. Animal pelts still sold well for blankets, clothes and shoes, even to fill holes in the roof of houses.

While his siblings hoed and sewed, Fabrizio brought in money by spending all day in the trees, surrounded by the sights and sounds of nature. He loved it.  
He loved how the air sizzled in summer and the insects sang, and the challenge of taking down a wild boar, which were so fast and so hardy and so unexpectedly terrifying that he had been the one to flee on their first few meetings.  
He loved the crunch of leaves and cooler air in autumn, and the great abundance of deer that could be found. They were always very easy prey, deer. Very alert, but if you were quiet, their tendency to graze in the open made them sitting ducks.  
He loved the Christmassy air of a snowy winter, albeit he wasn't so keen on working in the cold with all the layers that made it difficult to move sneakily. It was worth it for the brilliant white coats of the rabbits at this time of year, though, and their meat was always the most tender.  
And he loved the fresh flowers and bright colours of spring, when the weather was just right and the birds had laid their eggs, providing lunch with a side plate for his family.

As an adult, he had expanded his business again, employing his artistic sway in a different direction. There was a large pile of antlers in his house which he carved into spoons, combs and belt buckles at night, and painted to sell at the Tuesday market. Other animal bones were available, but the antlers sold best. Sometimes people even wanted to buy them as they were, to hang in pride of place on their walls. Fabrizio understood the yearning for trophies. He had a stag head on his wall- classic for a reason, it was a much prettier feature than a giant murderous pig- and the blanket on his bed was wolf pelt. He'd kept it carefully since his childhood, the only piece of that remarkable animal that he would ever have. In his career, his more unusual catches had included lynx- soft pelt, but not much of it, one pair of shoes and it was gone- and wild goat, which had very tough and unenjoyable meat, and was better kept alive to make cheese. He had never found a wolf, and he had looked for one. It had seemed impossible that a group of angry men had managed to kill every one that lived within this region in the space of six months, but apparently that was the case. In all his time in the wild, Fabrizio had never even heard a howl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unexpectedly interesting morning.

Fabrizio began his day early, not because he wanted to, but because he hadn’t yet discovered which farm that rooster lived on so he could wring its neck. He grumbled as the cawing easily penetrated the confines of his house, but the noise was impossible to ignore and so he rolled out of bed. A splash of cold water on his face was sufficient to rouse him and he dressed before sitting down to a simple breakfast, bread and jam with a cup of tea. He didn’t like to eat heartily before going to work. Common thinking would presume that food equalled much needed energy, but common thinking was mistaken. Dragging himself home early from a hunt because he’d been sick in the woods had taught Fabrizio that exertion and a full stomach did not mix.

After eating, he climbed to the mezzanine above his bedroom to fetch his hunting supplies. It was an unusual feature of the house, which was otherwise a small two-room cottage, one small room overtaken by the bed and the larger main area that served as kitchen and dining room. Fabrizio didn’t know why it had been built, but it had the distinctive and useful attribute of retaining the heat in winter. On many cold nights, Fabrizio had made his bed in the cosy space. In warmer weather, like now, it was a furnace, but remained a handy storage space for his weapons.

He put his rifle over his back, a knife in his belt and, after a moment of thought, took his dark green hunting jacket as well. It would soon be too warm to wear, but for now, the morning air still had a chill that made it necessary. Such were the tricks of Mother Nature. Today’s tasks were to catch some meat for the butcher, who had specifically requested birds so he could hike up the price, and at least one deer. There were orders for a set of bone spoons and a jacket, and the carcass could go to the butcher for extra money. Early morning was the best time to work, when the temperature was mild and a few of the nocturnal animals were still out, but with the daylight that allowed Fabrizio to stand on equal footing with them. The rooster could live for today.

The streets were almost empty, except for the shop owners and merchants sitting on stools outside their doors. Fabrizio continued past the point where paved streets and houses made way for dirt paths and rolling fields. The low sun cast a gentle glow over blooming vineyards and olive groves, creating shadows for the comfort of farmhands as they harvested the crops. Italy was truly a stunningly beautiful country, he thought, not for the first time or the last. When he looked at this landscape, it was impossible to imagine being unhappy here. He passed the point where even dirt paths existed, where no other people could be seen, and walked across a wild meadow until he was in the trees. The temperature immediately seemed to plummet several degrees. He shivered at the sudden cold and then began to walk slowly, readying his gun and keeping his eyes sharp for movement.

The forest was quiet this morning. The first animals he came across were sheep grazing on a hill of dark green grass, decorated by pretty pink and yellow flowers. The next were a group of wild horses gathered around a stream. He simply sat and watched them for a moment. They were such beautiful animals and so rarely seen. It was financially unviable to hunt them since horses and dogs sat side by side among the few meats that people would be horrified to eat, and they were too heavy to bring back to the village, but they were still a treat to admire.

After that slow start, his luck began to change. He managed to shoot a golden eagle and then a falcon from the sky. It was more difficult, but he didn’t target birds sitting on nests. They probably all had eggs at this time of year, but as long as Fabrizio didn’t have to see them, he didn’t have to feel guilty. They weren’t exactly the pheasants that the butcher had wanted when he said ‘birds’, but it wasn’t like anyone would know the difference when they were in the shop. Besides, they were bigger and Fabrizio might be able to charge more for the extra meat. He secured them to his back and set out looking for a deer to complete the morning.

Unfortunately there were no deer to be found, although he did find a patch of grass populated by brown rabbits. That could provide food for him anyway. He had a certain weakness for rabbit meat and he preferred to hunt them for himself. One of the little creatures could give him a good meal whereas he’d have to take down a warren to satisfy customers, so he simply didn’t advertise the option. He settled down behind a ridge and poked the barrel of his gun over, watching for the unlucky one that would wander away from the group. They were all huddled very close together and he was starting to consider firing into the crowd and hoping to hit something, when in the midst of the brown and green, there was a flash of grey in the top corner of his vision that seemed out of place. He lifted his eyes.

He couldn't believe what he was seeing.

On the other side of the small patch of grass, half-hidden and watching the rabbits just like Fabrizio, was a wolf. It took him a second to realise that it even was a wolf, and not just a large dog, but that silvery fur was distinctive to only one creature. It looked nothing like the artistic depictions of its species that he was so familiar with. It wasn’t large and muscular, with pitch black fur and demonic red glowing eyes. This wolf was small, thin and pale grey. Fabrizio released a surprised gasp and the animal turned its head towards him. Its large eyes gazed at him mournfully. He didn’t think he’d ever seen such a beautiful creature in his life.

For a moment they stared at each other, rabbits forgotten, and Fabrizio slowly raised the barrel of the gun towards it. It didn’t move. It simply kept watching him, almost questioningly, as if it was wondering what he was doing. His hands were shaking. He’d found a wolf. There was a wolf out here. It looked so young. Oh my God, they must have missed a den of cubs! There must be more! He’d found a wolf! The joy was like Christmas morning. He sighted down the barrel, aiming at the wolf’s heart. He’d be a hero if he told them, but he wouldn’t. This was just for him.

He put his finger on the trigger. The wolf’s ears pricked up in alarm and it took a step back. Fabrizio wished his heart would stop pounding, his hands would stop shaking, his eyes would stop moving away from their target. He kept being drawn back to its eyes. They looked so confused and afraid. It was so beautiful. He couldn’t kill it, but he had to, it would be so easy, it wasn’t even moving. If he let it go now, he might never see it again. Someone else would kill it, surely. Wolves were still feared and loathed in this area. No-one else would look after it and treat it with dignity as he would. He had to do this.

At the last second, his resolve wavered and so did the gun. He felt the kickback push the barrel into the air and the wolf ran. Fabrizio watched it scramble up the slope with impressive agility, its legs making huge bounds and its muscles rolling, and cursed as he watched it disappear from sight.

He gave chase, not with any expectation of catching up to the animal, but in the hope of finding where its den was. It was easy to track. The wolf had panicked, crashing through shrubbery and leaving tufts of fur on the rough bark of trees as it passed. It made some good distance. Fabrizio had been chasing for a mile before he suddenly came to a steep drop and halted.

The floor of the forest abruptly changed levels, dropping about seven feet. The carpet of undergrowth provided some cushion, but it was still high enough to cause injury to the unwary who went off it at full speed. One such unlucky soul was already there, a young man sprawled on the ground below. He was naked, his modesty protected by some conveniently placed legs, and curled up as if he'd resigned himself to dying where he lay. Fabrizio wasn't sure if he was dead already or not. He was so pale, as if he'd never seen the sun, and his dark hair was a shocking contrast against the rest of him.

Fabrizio edged down the slope, holding onto a tree for as long as he could, and then performed a combination of running and skidding that brought him to his knees upon reaching flat ground. He moved towards the man and knelt next to his back, leaning over to see his face. He knew immediately that he wasn't dead. Dead men could not make that hideous twisted expression of agony. He was shaking. Fabrizio pulled off his hunting jacket, grateful that he’d brought it, and draped it over the man.

“I know it's not much,” he said. “What happened?”

The man's only response was a series of pained whines, and Fabrizio quickly realised that the time for assistance was now, and the time for questions was later.

He returned to the village with a catch far more unusual than a deer across his shoulders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd love to hear what you think :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Be our guest, be our guest, put our service to the test

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm starting to really love this story so I hope people will enjoy reading it :) If you have the time and inclination, please do leave a little note at the bottom. It would make my day.

Fabrizio ate a simple lunch of thick bread, cheese and ham. There was a matching piece of bread for the injured man, in case he woke up hungry, but it didn't look like that was going to happen.

The doctor had been to see him, and diagnosed him with bruises, a broken rib and a bullet wound. Fabrizio had been beside himself when he heard that. “I didn't see him,” he insisted. “Why was he out there all alone? I swear I didn't see anyone. I can't believe I shot someone!”

“Shush,” the doctor said. “He can still hear you. If he wakes up, he can take you to court. It’s only a graze anyway. It won’t kill him unless it gets infected.”

He cleaned the wound and boiled a cauldron of water on the fire, stuck a knife into it and pressed the blade against the graze. The man whined in his sleep, a high-pitched whimper very like a dog whose tail had been trod on. “That should bring any infection to the surface,” the doctor said, soaking bandages in the warm water and wrapping the leg. “That’s all I can do. The next day or two will be critical. He will live or he will die, and only God knows which it will be. Are you looking after him?”

Fabrizio nodded. It was his responsibility to care for him, as the one who had inadvertently caused these injuries, and on a more selfish note he hoped the man would be grateful enough not to charge him with a crime.

“Check the wound often. If you detect infection, call me again.”

He now had an unconscious, injured, naked man in his bed, albeit less naked than before. The only covering Fabrizio had to hand was a voluminous nightshirt, so now the stranger's skinny body was swimming somewhere in a sea of fabric. It would serve as a ready-made shroud if he died, Fabrizio thought idly, and immediately regretted it. He tried not to be superstitious, but some lessons had their claws deep into him, and the idea that wishing ill on someone could cause it to happen was one such belief.

He moved across the room to check the wound again, squinting to see the colours under the bandage. At first glance the wound was purely black, but after a moment he was able to detect hints of red. There was fortunately no yellow. He put a hand on the man’s forehead. He had goosebumps and was shivering desperately, in contrast to the beads of sweat and gasping breaths of ten minutes ago. Fabrizio hoped his fluctuating temperature wasn't an indication of illness. He could deal with injury. Illness needed to get out of his house and take its chances in the wild.

He kept thinking of how he could have shot someone without noticing them, and had come to the conclusion that it had to have happened when he misfired at the wolf. The bullet must have flown in a greater arc than he’d realised, all the way over the trees, down into the little hollow where this poor unlucky boy was. Thank goodness he’d followed the animal or he would never have known. He wondered if anyone would have missed him, if they were missing him right now. He passed a hand over the dark curls. Such wild hair, he’d never seen anything like it. Where on earth had he come from?

“Why were you in the forest without any clothes on? Are you crazy?” he asked. The man’s laboured breathing continued. “Can you even hear me?”

After a few seconds, Fabrizio pulled a stool up beside the bed and sat down. He made sure to lean back, not letting the man’s breath touch him, just in case he was ill. “You have to wake up soon,” he said. “This is my bed. I'll put you on the floor if you don't wake up.”

There was no response. Over the next few hours Fabrizio tapped him, flicked him, tapped him harder, blew into his face, poked him, made a loud noise into his ear and gently scratched one nail against the sole of his foot, all to no avail. Finally he heard the church bells chime, warning the farmhands to leave their work before the nocturnal animals began theirs, and realised that he was stuck. He put his heaviest winter coat over himself and lay down on his sheepskin rug. He listened to the gentle breeze of the night outside and the terrible snores of his injured guest within, which had become unbearably loud without a distraction, and somewhere in the distance he thought he heard an animal whine.

Was the wolf out hunting tonight? He desperately wanted to get up and go out looking for it, but the animal had the advantage at night and he wasn’t foolhardy enough for that yet. He closed his eyes. “I will find you and I will make you mine” he whispered. A particularly loud snore ripped through the cottage and Fabrizio gritted his teeth.

“You are out of here as soon as you wake up, I promise.”

**

He awoke with his skull thumping in protest and grimaced as he sat up, pressing a hand to the back of his neck. During the night he had given up and taken his rug to the mezzanine. The wooden beams had muffled the snoring slightly, but not much. He felt like he hadn’t slept at all, but he must have done judging by the pounding in his head. He climbed down the ladder and checked the little back room. The bed was still occupied by a human-shaped lump. The black curls were the only part of the man’s face that could be seen, and seemed to have increased in size overnight. Fabrizio grunted in pain as he stretched and moved his neck.

“Are you dead?” he asked, patting the man’s shoulder. He slept blissfully onwards. Fabrizio lifted the blanket to check the bandage. A small gap had opened at the bottom and when he peered underneath, all he could see was red. Was he bleeding? He hadn’t bled at all last night. Fabrizio untied the bandage, watching to see if it would wake the man, and surveyed the wound in disbelief. It was light red and smaller than he remembered. That was skin, he realised. He sat down on the bed and lifted the man’s leg for a closer look. A new layer of skin had grown over the wound, impatient to heal. He thought it might scab, but it wasn’t going to scar. It wasn’t bleeding or at any risk of infection. There wasn’t even a need to change the bandage. He had never seen anyone recover from a wound so quickly. How was that possible?

He looked up as another snore arose, this one coming from the back of the throat in three short bursts, and then a longer one from the nose as if Sleeping Beauty had choked on some air. That noise was going to drive him nuts in a very short amount of time. Fabrizio moved up the bed and leaned over him. “Are you still asleep?” he whispered. “I cannot believe you’re still asleep. Your leg has almost healed. Are you serious? Oh my God, you need to wake up.”

The whispering had descended into hissing by the end. The only indication that he’d been heard was a few gentle sounds as the man’s lips pressed together in his sleep, and then the snores began again. Hang on, hadn’t the doctor said he had more than one injury? A broken rib, probably from falling down the slope, right? Fabrizio promptly began to poke the man’s ribcage, which did get some reaction, if only to make him turn over in his sleep. The snores became much quieter, more like loud breathing than a distressed pig now. Fabrizio accepted the temporary victory and got dressed, leaving his guest alone while he went down to the market.

He bought some freshly baked bread, alpine cheese and smoke-cured meat for lunch, enough for two people. He had returned home and had actually opened the front door when he heard heavy footsteps running up the street towards him. He turned and saw Mr Martelli, a poultry farmer, approaching at speed. “I'm glad to see you,” he said. “Can we talk?”

Fabrizio casually leaned against the doorframe to prevent him from seeing inside. “Of course. Is there a problem?”

“You bet there's a god-damn problem! A fox got into my hen house last night!”

Fabrizio felt his heart jump and beat faster, and tried not to let it show. “How do you know it's a fox?”

“What other animal would steal a chicken?” Mr Martelli demanded.

It had been here. Fabrizio's mind was already wandering off the job. Last night it had been in the village, or just outside it. He wouldn't pass Mr Martelli's farm on his normal route anyway, but it had been so close!

“Only one?” he asked, forcing his mind to focus. It wouldn't be good for business if he went into a daze in front of a customer.

“Not ‘only one’,” the man snapped. “One of my prize chickens! And panicked the rest of them! I need you find the sly bastard and make him pay.”

“I will” he replied at once. That farm had a treeline at the very bottom of its fields. The only thing that separated its chickens from predators was a stream and a wooden bridge. Honestly, what had Mr Martelli expected, but that wasn't important. It would be a great place to stake out at night when the wolf was hunting. If he was lucky, it might come to him.

They agreed a price, with extra for the pelt. Fabrizio was careful to specify that the pelt would only be sold if it was a fox, without putting too much of a fine point on it. Mr Martelli was too incensed to pay much attention to negotiations. That man loved his chickens, Fabrizio thought as he watched him stomp away. He really, really loved his chickens, arguably a bit too much. He gave them all names and treated them like children. Fabrizio had heard that he actually bought gravestones and plots in the churchyard for chickens who died, and he fully believed it.

When he stepped inside, the house was still as quiet as the grave, and his bed remained occupied. As an experiment, he waved the meat under the nose of the sleeping man and saw his head incline upwards towards it, but still his eyes didn’t open. “What man sleeps for twelve whole hours?” Fabrizio muttered, taking his purchases into the pantry. He cut a slice of bread and a slice of cheese for breakfast, and brought the plate to the small table in the centre of the room.

“Who are you? Where am I?”

Fabrizio turned to see the man sitting up, sucking in breaths and staring in wide-eyed horror. He put a hand out as if trying to calm a wild animal. “Hey, it's okay. My name is Fabrizio. You're in my home.”

“Why?”

“I found you in the forest.”

“You found me?” The curly-headed man recoiled, scrambling up the bed until his back hit the headboard. His eyes scudded around, taking in the wolf fur blanket and the trophies on the walls. “What are you going to do to me?”

“Please don't panic,” Fabrizio took the chance of moving slightly closer, still with his hand out, careful not to move quickly. “I'm not going to hurt you. You were badly injured when I found you. I'm just trying to help.”

“Can I go home now?”

“Do you feel well enough to walk?”

“Yes, yes, I'm fine” he said hastily. He flung the blanket away, stepped onto the floor, and immediately toppled like a tree. Fabrizio lunged to catch him, once more surprised by how light and bony he was.

“I think you should stay here for a little longer. I'll make you something to eat.” He helped the man back into bed and moved towards the kitchen.

“Do you have any red meat?”

Fabrizio looked over his shoulder, unable to keep the bemused frown from his face. Red meat seemed a little heavy for a first meal. “I was thinking more along the lines of soup and vegetables” he said.

“No, I'd like some red meat please. That will help me to feel better.”

Fabrizio quickly ran a mental checklist of the items in his pantry. Of all the days to have had a bad hunt, of course it had to be now. “I don’t have any red meat, but I have smoke-cured ham. Would that be okay?”

“That’s fine.”

“It will take some time to cook” Fabrizio warned.

“You don't...” The man suddenly stopped and looked down, as if embarrassed. “That's okay. I can wait.”

*

Fabrizio had never seen anyone eat like this man before. He ignored the utensils and simply grabbed the hunk of meat in his mouth, tearing off chunks with his teeth. Only when Fabrizio suggested that he use a knife to cut the meat did he seem to remember that it was there.

“You're obviously hungry,” he remarked, which was somewhat of an understatement. Ravenous would be more like it. “No surprise given how skinny you are. How long has it been since you've eaten?”

“Not long,” the man said in between bites. “But I don't always get to eat much. I hunt.”

Ah, that explained it. Fabrizio swallowed the exclamation he was about to make. “So do I.”

“That's obvious” the man said, with a pointed look at the deer head above the mantelpiece. Fabrizio looked too, smiling slightly with pride. “It's my profession and my pleasure,” he said. “By the way, I don't think I got your name.”

“Ermal.” He looked down and swept his hand over the blanket, rubbing the fur between his fingers, moving his jaw disapprovingly.

“I’ve kept it for years,” Fabrizio said. “I'm proud that I've been able to keep it in such good condition. I thought I would never have the chance to get another one, but…maybe that’s changed.”

“What do you mean?”

Fabrizio paused, wondering whether to share the secret. He didn’t seem like a competitor, with his skinny frame and big eyes that looked like they’d cry if he had to kill a living creature. He found himself leaning forward and dropping his voice, as if anyone else could be listening.

“Everyone thought the last wolf was killed decades ago, but I saw one yesterday, before I found you. It looked young. I don't know where it came from. It must have wandered here from another part of the country. Did you see it?” he asked, suddenly excited.

Ermal looked away and shook his head. “No.”

“It was beautiful,” Fabrizio murmured, more to himself than the other man, gently stroking the fur with one finger. “I'm fascinated by wolves, maybe because I've never had the chance to see one.”

“I'm afraid of them” Ermal muttered, still staring at the wall.

“Most people are, and you know what men do to the things which frighten them. They destroy them.”

“It seems like you destroy the things you love.”

Fabrizio looked up to see Ermal’s wide, unblinking eyes fixed on him. “That's not true,” he protested. “I protect them. I preserve them. Any hunter would give his arm to have the head of a woolly mammoth on his wall, or the pelt of a sabre tooth. That wolf could be the last one still living in this region. I'm going to find it and make sure that it's never lost.”

“By killing it.”

“I guess you're not familiar with this area.” Fabrizio took the plate and stood up. It was easier to speak when he didn’t have to look at Ermal’s face. “As soon as people here get the news that a wolf has been seen, it's dead anyway. They'll destroy it and leave no trace behind. I can't let that happen to an innocent creature. I have to keep it safe.”

“I'd better go.” There was a rustle as Ermal once again tried to stand up, only wavering this time, not falling. Fabrizio looked incredulously at his skinny body in the nightshirt. He looked like a ghost. “I’m pretty sure you can’t go anywhere in that. I’ll give you some old clothes to borrow after I’ve eaten.”

Ermal hesitated, looking out of the window as if he was trying to decide whether to bolt. “Okay, but I really have to go home today.” He got back into the bed with perceptible reluctance.

“I'll walk with you” Fabrizio volunteered.

“There's no need.”

“Really,” he insisted firmly. “These woods are full of wildlife. It's better to have a companion, especially one with a weapon.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fabrizio's fascination with both the wolf and the stranger continues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I may have completely messed up the split in chapters so your choices were between filler or a monster, and I don't want to make you wait two weeks before anything actually happens, so monster it is. Many thanks to my writing friends.

After lunch, Fabrizio climbed into the mezzanine and took down his oldest and least worn jacket, a bright red one meant for the summer season. It had been a gift from someone who mistakenly believed that the point of hunting was to announce your presence to the animals. It was good that he’d finally found a use for it. If there was one person who couldn’t afford to stumble unannounced upon a wolf den, it was the pile of skin and bones down there. He brought his gift into the bedroom and was surprised, not to mention alarmed, to find Ermal in floods of tears. He was bent over with his face in his hands, and although he wasn’t sobbing out loud, his shoulders were shaking violently.

“Are you okay? Does it hurt?”

Fabrizio was thinking about his leg, but then Ermal turned and held out a black leather-bound book to him. “Did this really happen?” he asked tearfully.

Fabrizio took the book and ran his eyes over the page. It was a Gothic horror novel about a werewolf terrorising a small town. In this chapter, the werewolf had been discovered and was now being tortured to death. He looked at Ermal in disbelief. How soft was it possible to be?

“It’s a story,” he said. “It’s…It’s fiction. It’s just a fairytale. Did you think this was real?”

Ermal sucked in a few deep breaths and rubbed his eyes. Fabrizio closed the book and put it on the shelf, far out of his reach. “I’ll get you some water.”

He returned with a jam jar full of water, having grabbed the first container he found on his way to the pump, and handed it over. Ermal brought the jar to his mouth, but rather than tipping it to drink, he began incessantly sticking his tongue into it and lapping up water like a cat. Fabrizio ought to have stopped him, but he watched, mesmerised, as the level of the liquid began to drop beyond his reach. He pressed the jam jar into his mouth, his tongue writhing in all directions. Dear God, he was utterly crazy. He had to get him out of the house immediately.

“What are you doing? Drink properly.”

“Sorry.” Ermal tipped the jar carefully and took a sip, and then another, throwing his head back to pour water into his throat. Fabrizio sat on the bed and gently took the jar away.

“Ermal, I need to talk to you about something important,” he said, once he had the man’s attention. “I am a hunter. That is my livelihood, and if it were to spread that I injured someone...That could be a death knell for someone like me. No-one will trust a man who's known for being reckless with guns.”

“You could make money in another way,” Ermal said. That was not at all the reply that Fabrizio had hoped or expected to hear. The man pointed to the canvas set up in the corner of the room, which depicted a watercolour painting of the night sky. “You paint. You paint well. Why don't you sell them?”

“That's a hobby. Besides, I have tried to sell them. No-one wants to buy. People here are practical and they won't spend money on a useless picture.”

“Do you only paint landscapes?” Ermal asked. Fabrizio frowned, suspicious. “Yes.”

“Can you paint portraits? I’m sure the kind of people who like mounted animal heads in their houses would pay for an enormous picture of themselves.”

Fabrizio opened his mouth to argue, and found that an argument wasn't presently forthcoming

There was a knock on the door and he turned, and then looked back at Ermal. The man had already pulled the blanket over his head and vanished underneath. Fabrizio smiled at his dramatics. “Maybe it's the doctor” he suggested, getting up to answer.

It was not the doctor, but the butcher. “Oh, you are home. I thought you’d got lost on the way back” he remarked. For a second Fabrizio had no idea what he was talking about, but then remembered and was unable to hold back a gasp.

“I’m so sorry, I got distracted. I have your birds here.”

“I’ve got six people in the shop waiting for their…” The butcher broke off his sentence as Fabrizio approached with a bird of prey in each hand. “Gosh, they’re big.”

“I hope that makes up for the late delivery.”

“I didn’t ask for an eagle,” the man retorted. “I told my customers that they were getting pheasant. I’m not paying for meat that no-one wants, especially if you’re planning to charge me extra for the size.”

“You asked for birds and you got birds. I can only give you what I have. Look, the falcon is about the same size as a pheasant. You can take that and I’ll keep the eagle. I’ll even knock off 2 lira.”

The other man hesitated. “Or I can take the birds back” Fabrizio said smoothly. The butcher scowled. “Here’s your money,” he snapped. “I’m not happy with the service.”

“As I said, I had other concerns. You should have come last night if you were concerned about keeping the customers waiting. Good day.”

“You’re a fine one to…” The door had closed before Fabrizio could find out what he was a fine one for. He went back inside and patted the lump on the bed. “You can come out now.”

Ermal's head reappeared, his hair like a tangled bush, and he ran his fingers through it to push it off his face.

“Why did you hide?”

“I'm not used to talking to people.”

“You didn't have to talk to him,” Fabrizio chuckled. “Still, it's probably for the best that he didn't see you. Rumours spread quickly around here and having a strange man in my bed wouldn't do my reputation much good. So you like meat? Good news, I am in possession of an eagle that no-one wants to buy. You can have it if you want.”

“For free?” Ermal questioned.

“Sure, why not? A token of how sorry I am to have injured you.” He dropped the jacket on top of the other man, opened the cabinet drawer and handed over some packets of home remedies. “You should take these with you as well.”

“What are they?” Ermal asked, frowning and turning the paper rectangles over in his hands.

“It’s medicine. I keep all kinds of cures in the house. My mother says I could open an apothecary in my old age.”

“Thanks.”

“This is ointment for the wound,” Fabrizio explained, giving him a small glass brown bottle, and pointed to the green sachets that Ermal already held. “These are for illness. I’m quite prone to unsettled stomachs so I always keep a good supply of them. You just put that in hot water and drink it. So where do you live?”

Ermal pointed out of the window and Fabrizio looked, seeing nothing except rolling fields and trees as far as the horizon. “Out there?” he queried, and received a nod. He immediately went up to the mezzanine and retrieved his shotgun. Ermal recoiled at the sight of it.

“Is the gun necessary?” he asked.

“I would never go into the wilderness without it.”

*

They walked through the streets, Ermal keeping his head down and shoulders hunched, as if he was afraid to be noticed. He looked warily at the signs adorning the gates of the farms as they passed.  
‘Trespassers will be shot. Survivors will be shot again.’  
If you asked, they would say it was a joke. Nobody was inclined to test that.

“Don’t you have a job to do?” Ermal asked finally, as they were almost in the trees.

“Yes, I’m hunting a fox. Apparently a chicken was stolen last night and the owner thinks a fox is to blame, but between you and me, I don't think that’s the case.”

“Oh?” The other man stopped and looked at him curiously.

“No, but for Mr Martelli's peace of mind, I can easily find one,” Fabrizio said casually. “With any luck, he'll feel safe enough to leave his chickens to roam again and that wolf will come back for another one.”

“And you'll be waiting?”

He nodded. “His farm is in an ideal location. The bridge over the stream is the only point of access, unless it wants to chance walking through the village centre. If I wait there, it can't escape running into me.”

“It's a good plan” Ermal remarked.

“Thank you.”

“Good luck. I think I’m okay to go on from here.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, it’s very close by. Thanks for all your help. Bye.” He spun around and nearly walked into a tree.

Fabrizio watched him walk down the path and adjusted the grip on his gun. He needed to go into the forest anyway to find his fox. It was coincidence if they happened to be walking in the same direction, and Ermal was too interesting to be allowed to disappear without further investigation. Fabrizio hadn’t decided if he was crazy or not, but he’d certainly like to get a better understanding.

He followed at a distance, employing all of his skill in stealth to stay out of Ermal’s sight and hearing. The other man walked deeper and deeper into the trees, sliding down grassy slopes and climbing boulders as he went. Fabrizio had to start scratching stones so he’d be able to find his way back to the path. He could see the mountains getting closer. They were further into the wilderness than he’d ever gone before. Ermal had been walking for nearly two hours, and considering he was so skinny and had recently been shot, was showing no signs of failing energy. Fabrizio was more exhausted than he seemed to be. So much for ‘it’s very close by’, he thought. Would they ever get to whatever destination this man had in mind?

At last the treeline broke and Ermal started walking down a rocky, gently sloping path towards a barren meadow. Fabrizio stopped where he was, unable to follow without cover. In the centre of the meadow was a single building, octagonal in shape and made of old white stone with a terracotta tiled roof and a small bell tower at the top. The tower seemed to be purely decorative since Fabrizio couldn’t see any sign of a bell. The building looked like it was three stories tall, but the three windows at the top had been boarded up, as had two of the windows on the second floor. The only first floor window had been covered with a grate. A brown wooden door and the single remaining second-floor window permitted entry. The rest of it looked like a fortress. There was a small outbuilding sitting next to it with two windows, one resting directly above the other, both too tiny for a person to fit through. The lowest one was about six feet off the ground. There was no door.

Ermal cut across the grass, performing a series of little hops as he ran down the slope, and turned abruptly at the bottom. Fabrizio hid behind a tree, watching with one eye as Ermal looked around and then walked over to the building. He opened the door, apparently without a key, and disappeared inside. Fabrizio dared to shift a little closer, not leaving the treeline, simply giving himself a wider view of the area. It was in an excellent location, he thought, his hunting senses tingling. The house sat atop a shallow slope, surrounded by flat grass, and the nearest mountains were miles away. From almost any vantage point, it would be impossible for an intruder to sneak up on the building. He did a complete scan of the area and the only remotely feasible hiding place he could find was a small collection of rocks on the path he was standing on. Even then, concealment would require the intruder to lie on their stomach and they wouldn’t be able to move without giving away their position.

He watched for a few minutes more, but there was no movement or sound within, and finally he turned away and began the day’s hunt.

**

Fabrizio had uncovered yet another surprise on his journey back from the concealed house. There had been no need to traverse unfamiliar terrain for hours. When he walked back along the path between the villages, it had brought him home in half an hour. That could only mean that Ermal knew he was following him and had led him on a merry dance in an attempt to shake him. Well, it was either that or the man preferred the challenge of travelling via the mountains compared to the convenience of the valley, and if so Fabrizio respected that.

He didn’t normally take an interest in people, but crazy or not, there was something about Ermal that intrigued him. He’d already decided that he would go back to that house tomorrow, under the guise of checking on the man’s health, to see what he could find out about him. In the meantime, however, he had another very important mission to perform.

That night, he packed his gun, lantern and a little food for both sustenance and bait. He made his way to the edge of the village and stood at the entrance to Mr Martelli’s land, feeling shivers of excitement and fear that nearly stole his sight every time he tried to move beyond the fence. He couldn't believe he was about to do this. It was so stupid, so dangerous.

He'd been quietly afraid of the farms since he was seven years old, since his old friend Andrea had lied and told them that the farm on the hill above his house was abandoned. They had made a tyre swing on a tree and played there for a while, and then Andrea had insisted that they go round to the stables to see the horses. Fabrizio had chickened out. Some part of him must have smelled a rat, realising that there couldn't be horses on an abandoned farm. He had hidden in the bushes at the bottom of the field until his friends were out of sight, and then went home. The owner caught them. Alessandro had been bitten on the leg by his dogs. Danilo had the top of his finger shot off. Fabrizio had had a firm respect for private property ever since, and now he was preparing to break the habit of a lifetime.

He forced himself to press forward and thought that his legs would buckle under him as soon as he was on private property. The last time he had felt so afraid was when he’d lost a wild boar in the underbrush and attempted to follow it into the dark before losing his nerve and running. He couldn’t run this time. Mr Martelli owned more than a poultry farm; he was also the landlord of an arable farmer, which meant his land included a huge swathe of flat ground that Fabrizio had to cross. There was nowhere to hide out here. If he was seen from the house, he was in trouble. He could see the farmer’s house, a small cottage in the corner of the land, overlooking the chicken coop and the kennel where his guard dog lived. Fabrizio had no interest in that area.

He moved across the field, taking care not to step on shoots and putting one hand over the lantern to dim the light, releasing a breath when he reached the river. He kept going across the bridge just so he couldn’t be accused of trespassing if he was found, and then settled down on the dirt path that connected the farm to the forest. It was a shame that he couldn’t release the chickens as an extra temptation, he thought, but that would be too much risk for no guarantee of reward. He placed his gun across his knees, opened his flask and leaned his back against a tree to wait.

The waiting went on for some time. Fabrizio finished his flask and one of the sandwiches, and pulled a spare jacket around his shoulders as the temperature dropped further and further. He was wearing leather gloves, but still had to keep rubbing his hands together to spare them from the cold. He could hear the whistle of insects and the rush of wind in the trees, but aside from that, there was barely any sound at all. There was certainly no distant howl to let him know that his prey was out there. He looked at his final sandwich, and then picked it up and took a bite. The sky was starting to turn blue. Finally he admitted defeat. It was probably too much to hope that the wolf would come back to the same place on consecutive nights. His clumsiness was simply because it was a new kind of hunt, he decided. All animals had their quirks and he would learn this one’s soon enough.

He stood up and moaned as his back protested. Time to go home and sleep. There was no chance he was crossing private land again, especially with the sun coming up, so he went deeper into the forest until he found the main path and followed it back to the village. It would be ironic, he thought ruefully, if the wolf had actually gone to the village last night while he was freezing out here. He kept an eye out as he walked home, but there was no sign of activity. Still, he tried to remain positive. The hunt had only begun and, with any luck, today’s plans would not end in such resounding failure.

**

He needed only twenty minutes of sleep to feel refreshed, and afterwards started to pack a small lunch. He even used a basket that his mother had given him once, a small wicker thing with a red checked cloth, like a little girl would carry. He had never used it before in his life, but the food looked well presented. He only hoped no-one would see him with it on his arm.

The area around the house was empty, so Fabrizio politely knocked the door and stepped back, looking around with interest as he waited. There was a giant tree stump over there, a small pile of firewood against the wall of the outhouse, some wet patches on the ground next to the front door, all the signs that someone had been living here for quite some time. How fascinating. Someone had made their home in the wilderness so close by and absolutely no-one in the village had known. There wasn’t much that got past the gossips, so clearly this was a mystery of some note, and Fabrizio was currently the only one in a position to solve it. The feeling of power was unbeatable.

“Are you lost?”

He turned towards the accusatory voice and there was Ermal, curly hair like a tangled bush over his eyes, frowning at him. Something which looked like a bandage at first glance, but on closer inspection revealed itself to be a piece of a shirt, was wrapped around his leg. He was holding a fish in one hand.

Fabrizio’s mind raced to come up with an excuse. “I was in the area…” Sure, there was nothing wrong with saying that. He was hunting. Here was his gun, here was his lunch. It was a convenient story. “Fishing?” he asked, trying to distract. “I thought you didn’t look like a hunter.”

Ermal looked at the fish as if he’d forgotten it was there. “I’m not a very good one. Why are you here?” he demanded, not distracted.

“I wasn’t sure how you were feeding yourself out here, so I brought a few things. It’s not much, just bread and strawberries.”

Where had that come from? What had happened to the convenient story? Fabrizio found his arm shooting out, proffering the basket like a peace offering. Ermal’s frown deepened and he took one step, slowly, as if he thought Fabrizio would pull a knife if he got too close. The basket was almost snatched out of his hand before the other man retreated, lifting the cover to look inside.

“It’s a nice thing to do,” he said suspiciously. “Wait here.”

He put the basket and fish on the ground and went into the house. Where was he going? Was he going to get a weapon? Fabrizio started backing up, but then the other man emerged with only a glass jar and a box of matches in his hand. He walked towards the back of the building and Fabrizio followed him. A copse of trees was hidden back here, looking down a steep hill towards verdant pastures far below. He hadn’t noticed all of this from his previous vantage point. The trees would be an excellent place to launch an ambush from, he thought, unable to stop himself. Any attacker would be exhausted from climbing that hill to get to them, though, so the building was still protected.

Ermal walked into the trees and, before he was out of sight, stopped in front of one and picked up a twig on the ground. He set it alight and held it next to a knot on the tree. What was that? Fabrizio moved closer for a better look, squinting. It looked like a growth on one of the branches, brown with hints of yellow and…Jesus Christ it was moving! His hand automatically went to his mouth in horror as the tree started buzzing and pieces of it began to break off, tiny pieces of brown flying into the sky.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he yelled. Ermal looked over his shoulder at him. “Getting something to put on the bread” he called back, and then reached his hand into the tree. It emerged holding a piece of something yellow which he placed into the jar. Fabrizio thought he might pass out. Everyone has their weaknesses, and for him, they were charging boars and bee nests. He didn’t mind the wooden hives with the pure yellow honey and just a few little bees crawling over the combs, but this thick mass of wild insects was horrifying and Ermal kept sticking his hand in amongst them. Fabrizio had to walk away before nausea overcame him.

He sat on the small stone slab outside the front door, every so often swiping the air next to his ear at the memory of that buzzing, and shot to his feet when Ermal returned. His jar was now filled with pieces of honey. “In the autumn the trees are covered in apples, but the bees are here all year round, except for winter” he explained.

“Isn’t that dangerous?” Fabrizio asked.

“Well, it’s the only source of honey around here so I have to do it.”

He came over, holding the jar out to Fabrizio, which allowed him a good look at his hands. Half of him had expected Ermal to have some kind of mysterious immunity to the stings- after all, why would someone do that unless they knew they wouldn’t be hurt?- but the other man had a few red welts on the back of both hands.

“Your hands,” he said stupidly. “Where’s the ointment I gave you?”

“It’s inside. I’ll get it.”

Ermal moved past him and opened the door. Fabrizio turned to follow, staying just inside the doorframe. “You need to light a fire” he said.

“The smoke will keep them away.”

“Yes, that’s why you need a fire.”

“In the middle of the day in June? No, I don’t” Ermal retorted. He opened the drawer of an old writing desk made of black wood, and lifted out the pot of soothing ointment.

“Did you take the stingers out?” Fabrizio asked sharply, seeing that he was about to open the lid.

“No, they heal on their own.”

“For God’s sake,” he muttered, striding across the room and pulling the wounded hands towards him. He pinched the skin hard to persuade the little barbs to rise within his reach, ignoring his reluctant patient’s whines and struggles, until he was satisfied that they were all out. Ermal pulled his hands back and stared at them, now covered in more red spots than before. “Now put ointment on them,” Fabrizio instructed. “I’ll come tomorrow with more, or no, with gloves! Heavy duty gloves!”

“You don’t have to do that. I appreciate your help after shooting me, but it’s done. I’m not your responsibility” Ermal said, somewhat acerbically.

“I know that. I was only checking to see how your leg was.”

“And whether I was going to sue? Don’t worry, I won’t.”

The unexpected discernment of the other man caught him off guard and for a second too long, he didn’t know how to respond. “It was an accident, you know.” Even to his own ears, that sounded weak.

Ermal smiled, laughing slightly as if he didn’t quite believe that, but nodded. “I know. Do you want to share bread and honey? You don’t have to, but I don’t often get visitors up here.”

“I’m not surprised. Do you really live here?” Fabrizio asked.

“Yes. It was built as a sanctuary from highwaymen, a place for travellers to sleep where no-one could get in to harm them.”

Fabrizio looked around the space. Contrary to the design of most houses, it was smaller on the inside than the exterior suggested. It was only one large space with a set of wooden steps leading to the second floor, and a door in the far wall which must connect to the outhouse. As for furniture, with the exception of the writing desk, there was only a pallet on the floor and a small cauldron hanging over a pit of ashes. On the desk itself were a series of wooden ornaments, mostly animals, arranged neatly in a line.

“So how long have you lived out here?” he queried.

“A long time, since I was a child” Ermal replied, rubbing the ointment onto his hands.

“Do you have any family?”

“I had my mother. She died about a month ago.”

Fabrizio paused. He’d never been much good at responding to tragedy. His voice never sounded right, he never knew what to say, and people usually thought he was mocking them. It was often better to say nothing. “I’m sorry” he remarked carefully.

“It’s been quite tough without her” Ermal said, ignoring the platitude.

“Lonely?”

“Yeah…” He looked up and stared at the wall as if it brought to mind some memory. “Lonely.”

“You should come into the village,” Fabrizio suggested. He pointed to the ornaments. “Do you carve?”

“It's a hobby” Ermal said quickly. Fabrizio picked up the nearest figure, a small round owl with intricately patterned wings, and turned it around admiringly. “These are lovely,” he said. “Do you know there's a market in the village every Tuesday and Saturday? These would fetch a very good price. It might help you to buy supplies.”

Ermal shrugged and folded his arms. “I don't know. I don't live there” he muttered.

“I own a stall. We could share and I'll introduce you to people” Fabrizio offered.

“Why do you care?” the other man snapped, abruptly and aggressively enough that Fabrizio nearly dropped the owl. He quickly replaced the figure, suddenly realising that he was in a stranger’s home and was entirely unwelcome. “It's only a thought. I'll leave you in peace now. I have my own work to do, but think about it.”

“Take the honey.”

Fabrizio was already halfway across the room and looked back to see Ermal offering the jar to him. “I have too much” the other man explained.

“Oh…Thank you.” He took it and moved back a few steps. Ermal nodded and folded his arms. “Did you catch a fox?” he asked.

“I did. Mr Martelli was very pleased.”

Ermal nodded again, looking at the floor. Fabrizio turned the honey jar over in his fingers, watching the viscous goo slowly ooze up the sides. “Have you ever seen a wolf, or heard one?” he asked. Ermal’s eyes flicked up to look at him. “Is that why you came?”

“I figure since you’ve been living out here for so long, you must have noticed something.”

“I haven’t. Perhaps it’s a new arrival to the area.”

Now Fabrizio was the one to nod. “Will you keep an eye out?” he requested.

“And what, tell you so you can come and kill it?”

“If you wouldn’t mind.”

There was another awkward silence. This whole situation felt so weird, Fabrizio thought. He wanted to leave, Ermal clearly wanted him to as well, but neither of them were taking any action to make that happen. It felt like he’d forgotten something he was supposed to do here and he couldn’t leave until he’d remembered. It wasn’t the wolf, strangely enough, so what…? Oh yes, he wanted to find out more about Ermal.

“You say that you hunt” he remarked. “I do” the other man nodded.

“I don’t see any weapons here.”

“I have a spear.”

Fabrizio grimaced disbelievingly. What was this, the Bronze Age? He might be a madman who spurned civilisation, but even that could only excuse so much. “You hunt with a spear? Do you know how to fire a gun?”

“I’ve never needed to know” Ermal replied, and Fabrizio barely stopped his jaw from falling open. There truly were some people who took a perverse pleasure in making life more difficult for themselves. Anyone else probably would have taken their cue to back out of the house and never return, but unfortunately Fabrizio was fond of puzzles, and the more challenging the better.

“Would you like to learn? It would be a much more efficient method of finding food. It would spare you from going days without eating” he suggested.

“Are you offering to teach me?” Ermal asked, once again displaying a level of astuteness which seemed so at odds with a man who had never learned to drink properly or to tell the difference between a fairytale and a history book.

“Since I’m coming up with some leather gloves tomorrow, would you like me to?”

The other man paused, looked up at the ceiling, moved his jaw thoughtfully, and then shifted his eyes only towards Fabrizio so that his head was still cocked at an angle.

“Alright.”

Somehow he made his acceptance sound like a challenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. Comments make chapters <3


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fabrizio attempts to win Ermal's trust. It's a work in progress.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to everyone who has read, commented and left kudos. Your enthusiasm sustains my writing.

True to his word, Fabrizio returned the next day with his gun, two boxes of ammunition, a bag full of old tins, and a pair of newly made leather gloves. Andrea had worked through the night to get them ready for this morning.

“Are you offering honey now?” he asked when Fabrizio gave the abridged explanation of why he wanted them, leaving out all mention of Ermal.

“No, this is for me. I found a hive in the woods.”

“And you’re not going to share with anyone?”

“I’m not trying to starve the poor bees. It’s very deep in so you’ll never find it” he added. Andrea laughed. “Oh, he’s cruel, so cruel. No honey, no discount.”

“You’re a bastard” Fabrizio said without malice. He could say this because he’d known Andrea since childhood, and because he was a bastard. As the village’s only leather worker, he had a monopoly on providing the clothes and shoes required by the working men, and his prices reflected that.

Ermal was sitting outside the house, rubbing a white shirt over a washboard and dipping it into a bucket of water. There was no soap in the bucket, Fabrizio noted as he got closer. He was only one step above washing his clothes in the river with a stone.

“Hi” Ermal said. Fabrizio was still several metres away, and the other man hadn’t looked up from his bucket. “Hello,” he replied. “As promised, I brought you some beekeeping gloves.”

Ermal looked up as the gloves were proffered, and wiped a hand on his trousers before taking them. “Thank you” he said.

“So,” Fabrizio shifted the gun on his shoulder and wondered why he felt excited at the prospect of teaching. He wouldn’t normally be. Maybe it was because Ermal was a subsistence hunter and no threat to his livelihood. “Do you still want to learn hunting?”

*

Ermal turned out to be a good shot. He was able to hold the gun steady and hit his target every time, providing that his target was a tin. He took forever to load, fumbling with the ammunition, and even longer to line up his shot.

“Hunting is about taking down a live animal,” Fabrizio remarked dryly, after watching Ermal aim at a tin for seven seconds without pulling the trigger. “Live animals tend to move. Nine times out of ten, you'll have missed your chance by now.”

Ermal fired and the tin exploded into shards, just like its shattered brethren before it. He looked at Fabrizio proudly.

“We've established you can hit things. That's not the problem,” he replied. “The problem is that no animal will stand there and wait to be shot.” He pushed himself off the wall he'd been leaning on and held out a hand for the gun. “Come on, I'll show you what it's really like. I can teach you tracking along the way.”

“I know how to track” Ermal retorted.

“Great, then show me.”

He watched as Ermal marched ahead and pointed to a broken stick on the ground. “Something went in this direction.”

“What was it?”

“I don't know. It's some kind of animal. That's all you can tell from a stick.”

“It's a mid-weight animal, probably a feline.”

“How can you tell?”

Fabrizio walked over to the stick and bent down, pretending to consider for longer than he needed to. “A light animal like a rabbit wouldn't damage the stick and a heavy animal like a bear would flatten it,” he remarked. “A neat crack in the middle suggests either a feline or canine. The canines we have around here are things like foxes, small and thin, and they wouldn't exert enough pressure to break a stick unless they were jumping. A lynx, however, has enough mass to do it on a gentle walk. It's the most likely explanation.” He stood up and smiled, with more than a little satisfaction. “Will we see if I'm right?”

He started walking into the woods, hearing the crunch of vegetation behind him. He looked back and held a finger to his lips. “Do you mind being a bit quieter? We are trying to sneak up on an animal here.”

Ermal sighed and started walking more carefully, so slowly that Fabrizio had to look back every now and then to make sure he hadn’t fallen too far behind. At last he reached a ridge overlooking a stream and held out a palm behind him, warning Ermal to stop, and then gesturing for him to join Fabrizio behind a rock. On the other side of the stream, lying atop a boulder like a prize waiting to be won, was a happily sunbathing lynx.

“As I suspected,” Fabrizio whispered. “Now watch. When you see your prey, you make sure that it can't find you with any of its senses. Stay behind cover, keep quiet, and make sure you're downwind. So many people forget that one because they can't smell the animal, so they don't realise the animal can smell them. It's like children who pull the blankets over their heads to hide.”

He flashed a smirk at his companion and received an unimpressed glare in response.

“Now you take the safety off, or if you're me, it's already off and ready for action because usually there is nobody else out here. You lift the gun slowly so it isn't alerted by sudden movement, take a moment to aim and fire.”

The gunshot rang out and Ermal gave a short scream, turning on his knees and hiding his face in his hands. “No hesitation” Fabrizio concluded.

“I thought you were only demonstrating! I didn't know you were going to kill it!”

“Why would I only demonstrate?” Fabrizio scoffed. “It's a perfectly good pelt.” He slid down the hill to retrieve his catch. When he climbed back up, Ermal had disappeared. He was found back at his own house, sitting just inside the door. He spared Fabrizio a glance before looking away in disgust.

“You should go. Thank you for your lesson. It was very informative.”

“I think I can see why you’re not a very good hunter,” Fabrizio remarked. “Don’t worry, a few weeks of starvation will cure you of that squeamishness.”

Ermal rose to his feet and stepped forward with remarkable speed, as if he was about to pounce, his face twisted into a scowl. Fabrizio found his muscles tensing in preparation for a fight. The other man, probably knowing that he couldn’t win if he pushed it beyond a threat, turned and marched into the house. He returned a second later with the red hunting jacket in his hand and threw it at Fabrizio. It landed well short in the grass.

“There’s your jacket, now go away, please.”

He went back into the house and slammed the door behind him.

**

For the past few days, that curly-haired idiot had been taking up more space in Fabrizio's head than he was comfortable with. He would be cooking his meals when suddenly the image of that man, attacking his food as if he'd never been fed in his life, would come to mind and he'd grimace in annoyance. Shortly after that would follow the thought of him out there, sticking his hand into bee nests and starving himself out of some misguided principle, and Fabrizio would feel restless as he sat there with his juicy rabbit. He was the only one who knew Ermal was there and so surely it was in some way his responsibility to ensure he didn't starve to death. And then he would remember the anger and judgement shown by a stranger to his livelihood and passion, and the pity would disperse. If he did starve, at least he could be satisfied that his corpse's self-righteousness remained intact, Fabrizio thought sourly. And then he would feel awful for wishing ill on the other man, and the cycle of loathing would continue, bouncing from Fabrizio to Ermal and back.

There had been a summer storm yesterday. Fabrizio received several warnings from farmers standing in their fields, staring at the sky. Animals were carefully secured in their stables, barns and coops overnight. By morning, the fields were saturated by unrelenting rain. Fabrizio couldn't speak for the whole village, but certainly no-one who worked outdoors ventured from their houses, and that included him. He sat on a stool with his front door open and watched the sheets of rain, interspersed with rumbles of thunder and flashes of lightning, and marvelled at how dramatically beautiful it was. He thought about a wolf lying in its den, watching this weather at the same time as him, and then about a head of dark curls sitting at his one open window. The image was a bit like a damsel in distress sitting in a tower. Did he have food? Did he have a fire? The image changed to the curly boy lying on a mattress, pale and coughing, made ill by the weather and with no-one to help him. Fabrizio felt himself becoming restless again. His foot started tapping anxiously and he glared at it. This was getting ridiculous now.

“I'm not your responsibility” Ermal had said. He should be correct, but Fabrizio had a bad feeling that he wasn’t.

It wasn’t as if he cared about him or valued his opinion, but he couldn’t deny that there was something about that boy which moved him, and he didn’t want to hurt him. But surely that was inevitable, when hunting was his livelihood and Ermal had a bleeding heart. They were never going to be friends and he certainly didn’t want to be friends with someone who would try to make him feel guilty for doing his job, but at the same time, he wanted to keep Ermal on his side if only to prevent him from making the complaint that Fabrizio was uneasily aware he was entitled to.

Alright, so when the weather cleared, he'd take a walk to the octagonal house and make sure Ermal was fed and healthy. That was all he needed to know. It might stop his stupid mind from always jumping to the worst possibilities. He was going to need a reason to go back though. He doubted Ermal would be pleased to see him 'in the neighbourhood' again.

At the Saturday market, he found his feet leaving the stall and walking over to the shop front of the blacksmith. His father was sitting at the bench inside the hot space, surrounded by the pungent smell of molten metal.

“I need an axe” Fabrizio said without preamble. His father didn’t even look up from the bench. “That’s an unusual request for spring.”

“Better to have it made now than when the rush is on.”

“It’ll be rusted before you’re able to use it.”

Fabrizio took a breath through his nose and immediately regretted it as the smell of sulphur choked him. “I would simply like to buy an axe, please,” he requested. “I'll pay double to make it a priority.”

“Why do you want it?” his father asked, pouring into a mould as he spoke. A few lies went through Fabrizio’s head, but there wasn’t enough time to work out any detail for them. He went for the most believable. “I'm building an extension to the house.”

At last his father was sufficiently engaged to look at him. “Have you considered offering that service to others? It would be steady work with handsome pay” he remarked.

This was a common refrain and had been ever since he was a teenager. His father was always asking when he planned to get a real job, saying that hunting was a young man’s game and he couldn’t rely on it now that he was growing old, that it wouldn’t provide for the family that Fabrizio would never have. He used to laugh it off, and then ignore it, and now he was old enough and sufficiently distant from his parents that he would outright dismiss them every time the subject came up.

“Maybe if I break my knees and can't go into the forest anymore” he said, failing to hide his annoyance. His father scowled and shook his head, returning his attention to his workbench. “I'll say no more. You'll pay double, did you say?”

“I did.”

“I suppose this is a good time of year to build an extension,” he remarked. His father’s way of dealing with confrontation was to pretend it had never happened. “I understand your haste.”

*

Ermal looked dubiously at the weapon.

“I noticed all of your firewood is made of tiny sticks,” Fabrizio explained. “I don't know if you have no axe at all or yours is too blunt, but this is freshly made by the blacksmith and the blade is as sharp as they come. Do you know how to use it? I can show you if...”

Ermal took the axe and, as if trying to prove a point, swung it over his head and embedded the blade in a tree stump. It sank several centimetres into the wood and refused to move when he tried to pull it out. Fabrizio put down his hunting supplies and moved to assist.

“You work it loose, like this.” He placed one foot on the stump and moved the axe in a see-saw motion until it had come loose from the groove and he pulled it out. “Why don't you try something smaller?”

Ermal took the axe from him, went over to a log lying among the trees, and split it in two swings. Fabrizio was impressed. He was stronger than he looked. Ermal brought the halves to the stump and set them up vertically, side by side, and then split them into four. He tossed them into the small pile next to the house and turned to Fabrizio, holding the axe over his shoulder in a casual pose that wasn’t at all sexy, and Fabrizio definitely didn’t let himself think that it was.

“Do you want to learn fishing?” Ermal asked.

*

“What is that?” Fabrizio asked, staring suspiciously at the pallet bobbing gently against the shore. “It's my boat” Ermal answered.

“That's a giant bowl.”

“No, it's a boat. I carved it myself. It's very seaworthy. Come on. I made you a fishing stick.”

“I think you mean rod...” Fabrizio trailed off when he realised that no, he did mean stick, a twig with a piece of string tied to the end.

He climbed carefully into the so-called 'boat', which was so small that he had to sit exactly in the middle to avoid dipping the shallow sides into the water, and bring his knees up to his chin. Ermal gave it a gentle push with his foot to send Fabrizio gliding into the lake. “Happy fishing,” he said. “We'll see who wins.”

“Wait, where are you going?”

“The boat's only big enough for one person. I'm going to fish in the stream.”

It was at that moment Fabrizio realised he'd been conned. “How do I get back to shore?” he called.

“There’s an oar behind you.”

So there was, one single oar to assist him. No fishing whatsoever was accomplished. Instead Fabrizio spent almost forty-five minutes spinning in this oversized wooden bucket, drifting closer and then further from shore, almost capsizing several times and nearly deciding to throw himself into the water and swim just to escape. Finally he was able to get the bucket moving in the right direction and worked out a pattern with the oar to keep it straight. He felt the bottom of it scrape the lakebed and struggled onto dry land, soaking his trousers, and set off in search of the stream. He was ready to give Ermal a piece of his mind, but his steps slowed as the gently rushing water came into view, and then he stopped.

Ermal was standing in the centre of the stream, trousers rolled up to his knees, holding a wooden spear. His back was to Fabrizio, but his head was bowed, watching the water. His body was tense and utterly still. His arm flashed suddenly and, so quickly that Fabrizio hardly saw it enter the water, the spear emerged with a fish on the end. Ermal pulled it off the shaft, tossed it to join three others lying on the bank, and resumed his tense posture. A minute later, he stabbed the water again, the spear coming up empty this time.

He was a hunter, Fabrizio thought. Alright, a hunter of fish rather than game, but still there was no mistaking what that intense focus on his target implied. After yesterday, Fabrizio had taken him to be an ‘all God's creatures great and small’ sort, but he had been deceived again. What a fascinating person he was. He wouldn't dare to speak and disrupt Ermal's concentration, but he knelt down to watch for a moment. He so rarely had the chance to observe another skilled hunter at work.

After five minutes, Fabrizio left him to it. To make himself useful and to dry his ankles, he gathered some sticks and started a fire in the clearing. It was burning well, giving off an almost unpleasant heat when combined with the June sunshine, by the time Ermal returned with his spear shaft coated in fish.

“No fish?” he queried, sitting down across from Fabrizio and placing one fish on a spit. “Never mind, I got enough for us to share.”

“You've made your point” Fabrizio muttered.

“What was my point?”

“I made you feel silly because you couldn't do something so you decided to pay me back in kind.”

“That's a very good plan. I wish I'd thought of that,” Ermal said casually, turning the fish. He suddenly looked up, as if he’d remembered a very urgent question. “Do you know how to whistle on grass?”

“No.”

“I'll teach you. What about flower chains?”

“I've never had reason to...”

“I'll teach you that too. And wood carving?”

“I can carve bone. Look, I get it,” Fabrizio snapped irritably. “You can do a lot of things. I apologise if I offended you.”

“I'm not trying to prove myself to you,” Ermal retorted. “You're the one who keeps showing up here, acting like I've somehow lived in the wilderness for thirty years without learning how to take care of myself.”

“I don't mean to imply that. It's pretty clear that you know what you're doing, but I keep thinking that if I hadn't stumbled upon you, you would have died and no-one would have known. It scares me, the idea that I could die and there would be no-one who would miss me. I suppose I'm working off my guilt by trying to make your life a bit easier, and making sure you're not alone out here.”

Fabrizio looked at the ground, cursing his tongue. What was it about this man that made it so easy to talk, and to say things he would never say to anyone else? Whatever it was, he hated it. He’d tried hard to cultivate the image of a heartless hunter, patronising Ermal with his favours. Creating the illusion of having power over someone, even if it wasn’t true, was the only way to get through life unscathed. And now he’d foolishly tipped the balance towards someone who was potentially unstable and could effortlessly destroy Fabrizio if he simply realised that he had the ability to.

There was a long silence, filled with the sound of crackling flames and the smell of cooking fish.

“Thank you for the axe,” Ermal said quietly. “Mine was blunt. It doesn't cut anything. I was going to have a hard time cooking soon, and when winter came...”

“You should come to the village for supplies,” Fabrizio murmured, suddenly feeling very timid. “You really should.”

“Don't you think they'd notice a stranger walking around?”

“We have lots of people from other villages attending the markets. If anyone asks, say you're from one of them.”

Ermal didn’t answer and Fabrizio finally raised his eyes. The other man had stopped turning the fish and was letting it go black on one side, while he sat with his head down and shoulders hunched, staring at his arms.

“Are you scared of talking to people?” Fabrizio guessed. “I’ll do all the talking. You just buy what you need.”

“I don’t have any money.”

“Then make some. Bring your carvings to the stall and sell them.”

Ermal looked at him and his eyes were filled with sad resignation. “Is this a trap?” he asked, sighing, as if he was only asking out of politeness and didn’t really expect an answer.

“Why would it be?” Fabrizio frowned.

“I don’t know. Besides, you’re not likely to tell me if it is a trap, are you?”

Fabrizio looked at him across the fire and felt a flash of recognition, followed by a jolt of surprise as yet another facet of Ermal was revealed to him. Underneath the tough exterior was someone who was scared, and covering it up badly. Fabrizio wondered if others could see through him so well. No, that wasn’t possible. His mother had warned him that people and wolves were wild, and both would tear him apart if they sensed weakness. He didn’t show weakness. Ermal did, crying and asking silly questions, and it was just as well that he lived out here because he would never survive among people. Fabrizio was his only social contact, the only one who could teach and look after him. Once again, he found himself shouldering the responsibility for this strange man.

“The market is from 10am to 1pm on Tuesday. It’s your choice if you come or not,” he said plainly, and then pointed at the fire. “Can I have some fish? I’m hungry.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's market day in the village. Will Ermal turn up? And if he does, will Fabrizio regret inviting him?

The stall which provided Fabrizio’s steadiest source of income sat at the north end of the piazza, its peripheral location compensated for by a slightly raised platform which prevented him from getting lost amongst the crowd. It also afforded a good view of the square so he would see if Ermal showed up. He watched the swell of people gathering at the shopfronts that lined the area, each one guarded by an owner on a stool who could answer questions and suggest purchases. It always took a while for anyone to visit him since the girl selling homemade jewellery was so close by and people inevitably stopped to look even if they had no intention of buying, so he took the time to let his gaze wander.

The white stone of the church stood out against azure sky and verdant trees, perched on a hill above the village like a beacon, impossible to miss. There was the rumble of a hundred muffled conversations and the smell of food being cooked in a large vat somewhere at the southern end. There was a few cooking contests held here in spring, although Fabrizio had never seen the point. The father and daughter who ran the tavern won them every single time. Still, an opportunity for some delicious pasta or soup was never to be turned down. Even the smell made him feel hungry. He closed his eyes, inhaled deeply and wished he could abandon his post to go down there.

When his eyes reopened, Ermal was walking across the square from the eastern side, looking around nervously. Fabrizio took one look and ducked his head, surprised. He stood out among the other villagers with his sickly pale skin, the messy hair and bags under his eyes, but the truth was that it suited him and his profile was unexpectedly appealing. He had an interesting face, Fabrizio thought, glancing up again. Each one of his features was charming in its own right and every time Fabrizio looked at him, he found something new to focus on.

Ermal looked over and his gaze locked onto Fabrizio. The stall owner gave a short wave to indicate that yes, he was the man Ermal was looking for. He came over to the stall and Fabrizio initially forgot how to speak, distracted by his dark eyes.

“You said something about a stall” Ermal remarked.

“I did,” he nodded. “This one. Did you bring your figures?”

Ermal patted a leather bag slung across his chest. Fabrizio looked at it with interest. “Have you been here before?” he asked. “That looks like the bags the leather worker sells.”

“Oh, well, I suppose all leather bags look alike.”

He came behind the counter and started to set up his little figures, followed by more varieties of wooden item that Fabrizio hadn’t expected. He had bowls, spoons, buckets, toys and even a full chess set with a painted checkerboard and carefully carved pieces. It was an impressive display. There was no way he had done all of that in a few days. Where had he kept it all? And why had he made it if he had no plans to sell it?

Fabrizio was distracted from these questions, however, by the arrival of his first customer.

“Hi Fab” he heard, and turned his head to see Giada. She was one of his oldest friends, although he only saw her on market days now since they were both so busy. If things had been different, he probably would have married her. His parents had certainly been surprised when she announced her engagement to someone who wasn’t him. His life might have been a little smoother if they had, but she was happy now with her two lovely kids, a lot happier than she could have been with him.

“What can I do for you?” he asked, immediately beginning the sales patter.

“The little one needs a new comb,” Giada explained, nodding to the little girl beside her. She looked at Ermal. “Hello, who are you?”

“I’m Ermal. I carve wood” he replied, almost apologetically.

“These bowls are lovely” Giada said, picking up one with her free hand. Her daughter tugged her arm. “Mamma, can I have the toy horse?”

“How much is the horse?”

“Um…” Ermal hesitated and looked at Fabrizio. “Three” he said immediately. “Other animals are available,” Ermal added. “If you’d prefer something else, I can make it for Saturday.”

“I want the horse” the little girl insisted stubbornly. Ermal immediately began to wrap the toy in paper. As he did so, he noticed Giada’s older child standing slightly apart from his mother and sister, touching one of the pawns on the chessboard.

“Do you like the chess set?” Ermal asked. The boy immediately recoiled and knocked the pawn over as he did so. “Yes” he said quietly.

“That’s ten.”

“We can do it for seven” Fabrizio interjected.

“Fabrizio…” Giada warned. “I’m charging you full price for the comb,” he replied. “Anita, what designs do you like? What about this one?” He picked up a white comb painted with purple butterflies. “It suits you, madam.”

Anita took it from him and grinned with delight. “Ooh, it’s pretty! Can I have it, Mamma?”

“Of course you can, sweetie. How much do I owe you?”

“That’s twelve. Thanks very much” he said as Giada handed the coins over. Ermal passed her purchases over. “I hope to see you on Saturday,” she said. “I have my eye on those bowls.”

“Would you like them painted?” Ermal asked.

“No, that wood is beautiful.”

Ermal beamed with pride as she left and Fabrizio tried not to notice how his smile lit up his whole face.

Their next customer was a little boy who bought a set of pan pipes, and then Andrea came over to ask for three buckles for the belts he was making.

“Five” Fabrizio said.

“Three?” Andrea probed.

“Nine.”

Andrea laughed and paid him the five originally asked for. Mrs Sansone arrived next in search of spoons, and paused when she noticed the selection. “Oh, these wooden ones are lovely. I’ll take two bowls as well” she said.

“You’re stealing my business” Fabrizio remarked afterwards.

Ermal drew his shoulders up apologetically. “Sorry. You can keep the money.”

“No, it’s your money. You earned it,” Fabrizio said generously. He paused. “I’m hungry. There’s a stall selling food across the square. Go and get us both a plate of spaghetti.”

In Ermal’s absence, sales picked up. Fabrizio was able to sell two more combs, one a beautiful burnt orange and the other royal blue, and a set of unpainted sewing pins. His selection of items wasn’t so good this week, he knew. He hadn’t managed to secure any pelts or antlers and it was his own fault. He’d been so focused on looking for the wolf for the past few days that he’d forgotten about the need to make money. He looked at the pathetic amount of coins and felt a small shiver go through him, realising that he couldn’t live on this amount for a week. Even four days would be a stretch and there was no guarantee that he’d have anything better to sell on Saturday. He might have to take money from Ermal after all.

It was just as well he had invited the other man because he was pulling in nearly all of the stall’s income. The wooden spoons were selling like hot cakes, and although Fabrizio initially didn’t understand why, understanding was bestowed by the hand of the village priest. He wandered through the market most days, rarely buying anything, simply speaking to his parishioners.

“Lovely wooden spoons” he said upon reaching Fabrizio.

“Evidently,” he retorted, trying not to sound annoyed. “I haven’t sold a single one of mine today.”

“How much are they?” Claudio asked.

“Seven for the bone, six for the wood.”

Claudio looked between the displays, Fabrizio’s laid out in a line and Ermal’s gathered in a cup. “That’s seven per spoon for the bone and six for the full wood set” he said, expertly deducing the arrangement. He always had been the smartest of them. Maybe that was why he went into the priesthood, the one profession which allowed a comfortable standard of living without the demand for hard labour.

“Mine are monogrammed” Fabrizio muttered.

Claudio laughed and patted his arm kindly. “I love this bucket. It would be very useful for feeding the sheep. How much is it?”

He looked at the bucket. The answer was twelve. A very childish part of him wanted to lower the price, but only for a moment. “That’s fourteen” he said.

“I’ll take it,” Claudio handed the money over. “And what are these? Dinner plates?”

Fabrizio followed his finger to look at the round circles of wood that were leaning against the back of the stall. Claudio was the first person to have seen them. They were in such a bad position for sales and he didn’t know why Ermal had brought them. He didn’t even know what they were.

“Too big for dinner plates,” he said, picking one up and setting it on the stall table. “I’m not sure what they are. Maybe they’re rafts.” He chuckled and so did Claudio.

“They’re shields.”

He turned to see Ermal standing to the left and slightly behind the stall, just out of his peripheral vision, leaning against a wall with a steaming plate in each hand. Once again, Fabrizio was taken aback by how unexpectedly alluring he was and forgot to feel horror at the fact that he was standing there. He shouldn’t have been there. The food stall was directly ahead. He should have passed in front of Fabrizio in order to come back. The only way to end up on the left was to walk around the back of the houses and come up the passageway.

“Where did you come from?” he asked. His voice sounded weird to his own ears.

“You were busy with a customer. I didn’t want to interrupt.”

Only then did Fabrizio have the appropriate response to his presence and felt his face burning, all the way up to his ears.

“Shields are an unusual item” Claudio remarked, thankfully saving Fabrizio from having to speak, because he didn’t think he could. Ermal came over and joined him behind the stall, handing a plate to him. “Fabrizio was telling me that a lot of people buy trophies here,” he explained. “I was thinking that perhaps they’d be interested in heraldry. I, or rather Fabrizio, could paint their family crests onto the shields and they could hang them on their walls.”

This was the first that Fabrizio had heard of it and he tried not to let his incredulity show. Claudio nodded thoughtfully, but encouragingly. He did everything encouragingly. Fabrizio had only seen him chastise a person once, and that was after seeing someone in confession. He’d never found out what the person had said, but Claudio had been furious and refused even to give them prayers to earn forgiveness for whatever sin it had been.

“I think that’s a very interesting idea. How would you find out what the crests are?” he asked.

“We’ll look them up in a book,” Ermal said easily. “Could we use you as an example, sir?”

“Well…Yes, why not? I’ll have to buy the finished product, of course.”

“Only if it meets your standards.”

Claudio smiled with delight and Fabrizio felt a stab of envy. For someone who’d never sold before, Ermal certainly had a gift for wrapping the customers around his finger. “My surname is Bielli” Claudio said.

“We’ll work on the shield for the Saturday market” Ermal said. Claudio nodded, made to walk off, and then doubled back to return the wooden canvas. As soon as he was gone, Fabrizio rounded on his companion.

“I’ll paint family crests? I don’t have time to do that!”

“Of course you do. You paint in the evening. This way you can make money off it.”

Fabrizio stared at him, moving his jaw unhappily. “You should have asked me before you volunteered me. And another thing, how are we going to find out what family crests look like? This village might have a bookshop, but it doesn’t have a comprehensive list of medieval heraldry.”

“If we don’t know, they don’t know. We’ll come up with something nice,” Ermal replied easily. “Come on, you overcharged your friend. Are you going to be squeamish now?”

Fabrizio wanted to say so many things that they all got stuck in his head and none of them made it to his mouth. What he eventually said was, “I have to go hunting tomorrow.”

Ermal frowned curiously. “Are you looking for the wolf?”

“No,” He paused, unwilling to admit it, especially to someone who would undoubtedly mock him for it. “I need to get something I can sell. I’ve hardly made any money today.”

Ermal immediately picked up the coins and offered them. “That’s your money,” Fabrizio snapped. “That’s supposed to be your money.”

The other man put the coins down and lifted the shield instead, holding it out with a guileless smile. Fabrizio glared at it and then at him. “I suppose it can’t hurt” he conceded grudgingly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hoped you enjoyed and I'd be so happy if you left a comment :)


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys go on their hunting trip, and begin to see the benefits of working together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit early, I know, but I keep reworking this chapter and I don't know what else I can do with it. I'm not overly proud of how it turned out, but I do like some later chapters so I'd rather get this one out of the way so we can move on. I hope it's not a terrible read anyway :)

Their plan was that Fabrizio would come to the octagonal house after his hunt, by which point the shield would be ready for collection and painting. However, an idea came to mind that night, and instead he showed up in the morning. Ermal was skimming stones on the lake when Fabrizio found him, although it was less impressive because the stones would only manage two or three bounces before sinking into oblivion.

“Is the shield ready?”

Ermal looked at him over his shoulder. “You’re early.” He climbed up the leafy slope towards him. “I carved it last night if you want to make a start now, but I thought you were hunting first.”

“I am,” Fabrizio said. “I want to go further in, but I’ve never been beyond the valley and you know the mountains.”

Ermal stared wordlessly at him.

“You don't have to watch anything,” Fabrizio added. “It would just be useful to have someone who knows the terrain as well as you.”

“You’re looking for the wolf, aren’t you?”

Fabrizio gave him a dry look. “As I told you, I need to get some things to sell.” He adjusted the gun on his shoulder. “I suppose if the wolf is out there, it would be a nice bonus.”

“I thought you hunted for money.”

“I do.”

“So what are you out here to find? What can you sell?”

“Well, ideally I’d like to find a deer for the antlers and meat.”

“I can find a deer for you” Ermal said immediately. Fabrizio raised an eyebrow. “You sound very confident.”

“In exchange for a rabbit” the other man added.

Fabrizio laughed. “You’re unbelievable. You get so high and mighty about my work, and then you want me to catch your dinner because you can’t.”

Ermal shrugged. “You owe me a favour.”

“Excuse me?” Fabrizio demanded. “I have paid you back for that. I have brought you food and tools, I let you…”

“I’m not talking about that. I’m doing you a favour right now, so you owe me one in return. That’s how the barter system works.”

There was something so...hard-bitten about him, Fabrizio thought, and nearly said out loud. He never really knew what he was going to say from one second to the next. It was unnerving and intriguing in equal measures. “Alright, done” he agreed.

“Great, and once you’ve caught my rabbit, we don’t owe each other anything else.”

They made their way through the forests, skirting the farms at the edge of the next village, Ermal in the lead. Fabrizio was aghast at how much noise he made, rustling grass under his feet, and even more horrified at his lack of respect for the properties they passed. He stole two tomatoes from bunches hanging on a wall, passing half the bounty to Fabrizio, as if it was perfectly acceptable to do that. They passed a cattle farm where one cow was standing at the fence, her nose poking out, and Ermal casually rubbed it and greeted her loudly.

“Why don’t you stop talking so I can concentrate and the animals don’t get a warning that we’re coming?” Fabrizio muttered. Ermal looked at him with an expression of angelic innocence. “Am I chasing them away?” he queried. “Maybe I shouldn’t be here.”

A glare from the hunter was his response. “You know, I was thinking the same thing until you said that. Now I know what your game is, you’re going nowhere.”

They were soon back in the wilderness, passing through verdant meadows and beyond streams whose water had been gently heated by the sun, and then under thick canopies that blocked out all of the heat and light. They reached the rickety wooden bridge that had always been Fabrizio’s cut-off point. It traversed a deep canyon with a river far below, too far below for the water to be any comfort. In the days before wolves became the village’s most frightening story, it was this bridge. Fabrizio had grown up hearing about it. It was said that no-one who tried to cross it had ever come back. The stories didn’t mention whether they fell into the river or were disappeared by whatever was on the other side, but the details weren’t important. Fabrizio had long been curious about what might be over there, even sneaking up here with his friends and feeling like he was doing something extremely daring, but he had never done anything more than throw sticks off the side and watch them vanish in the abyss.

Ermal took a running jump to miss the loose boards and land on the other side. “That’s impressive” Fabrizio remarked. The other man smiled and leaned against one of the posts holding the bridge in place. “Do you want to throw your gun over and I’ll get the deer?”

Fabrizio gripped the weapon tightly. “Not a chance. Move back.”

The other man did so and Fabrizio moved almost to the very start of the bridge to perform his run-up, launched himself into the air, and landed with a flump that winded him on the other side. He rolled onto his back and tried desperately to remember how to breathe. Ermal knelt beside him, watching with concern. “Don’t die. I’m really sorry. Don’t die” he said.

“I’m fine,” Fabrizio gasped. “You’re stronger than you look.”

Ermal nodded and opened his mouth, perhaps to make some retort about how Fabrizio was weaker than he looked, but said nothing. Just as well for him. After a couple of minutes, Fabrizio felt his lungs recovering and sat up, looking at the bridge with despair. “I can’t do that again. How am I going to get back?”

“Um…” Ermal pointed to a row of jagged rocks on the opposite bank. “There’s a meadow behind those rocks and you can reach it from here if you keep walking along the canyon. It takes a long time though. It’s very well-hidden.”

Fabrizio turned slowly to glare at him. “And you made me jump over a rickety bridge instead of telling me about that?”

Ermal smiled apologetically. “It really does take a long time.”

Fabrizio shook his head and stood up. “Alright, then let’s start hunting. I’ll take the lead. You stay quiet. The only time you’re allowed to talk is to tell me if I’m going to step on a snake or something. Do you understand?”

Ermal nodded and Fabrizio turned away. As soon as he was under instructions to be quiet, Ermal displayed how surprisingly adept he could be at stealth. Fabrizio occasionally forgot that he was there. They continued towards the mountains and as it turned out, one side of the bridge was much like the other. There were as many boulders as trees, and the air was eerily silent, but there were no signs of any deadly monsters. Fabrizio could hear the call of a bird sometimes, but he couldn’t see anything. They came across a few caves and he looked inside, but all of them were empty. They found a burrow, but it turned out to belong to a badger rather than a rabbit.

A rest stop was made on a cliff, from which it was possible to see all four villages below, and the flask of water was shared. “I wish I’d stolen more tomatoes” Ermal sighed. Fabrizio looked up at the dusky red sky and realised with a thunderclap of despair that he had no chance of getting home before sunset, even if he started to make his way back immediately.

“I’ll have to stay at your house tonight. We can make a start on the shield for Claudio” he said.

Ermal sighed again and threw the piece of grass that he’d been carefully picking apart. “I think I really am chasing the animals away” he said.

“I don’t think it’s your fault. Bad nights happen.”

“Do you want to go back now?”

Fabrizio looked at the sky again and nodded. “It’ll be dark in less than an hour. We’ve already gone too far, but we should try to make as ground as possible while there’s still light.”

The sun had set before they made it back to the bridge. Fabrizio hadn’t prepared to be out at night and so he hadn’t brought his lantern. He nearly tripped over a few tree roots and it was difficult to cross a shallow stream because he couldn’t see the rocks in the dark. Ermal didn’t seem to have the same problem. In fact, several times he whispered that an obstacle was approaching and saved Fabrizio from making a misstep. They had almost passed a large boulder when Ermal abruptly grabbed his arm, the impact and tightness of his grip painful enough to leave a mark, and pulled him to a halt.

“Wh…?”

“There’s a deer.”

Fabrizio turned to look around, seeing nothing. “Where?”

Ermal pointed up and Fabrizio followed his finger to see the silhouette of a large stag standing proudly at the top of a steep hill above them. He immediately ducked behind the boulder and readied his gun. “How did you see that?” he whispered. There was no response and Fabrizio put the butt against his shoulder, slowing his breathing, aiming…The shot rang out and the deer collapsed neatly onto its side. Fabrizio grinned triumphantly, ignoring Ermal’s flinch from the sound or perhaps from the sight. “Stay here. I’ll be back” he ordered, and started running up the hill.

The angle of the slope swiftly proved itself even more difficult than it looked, and on the last part, he almost had to go up on all fours. It occurred to him that he wasn’t going to be able to get back down with the weight of a deer on his shoulders. He turned at the top and peered into the trees, looking for Ermal at the bottom. “Can you come up here?” he called.

Ermal joined him within a few minutes, also crawling towards the summit. Fabrizio bent down and offered his hand to pull him up the final vertical section. “I know I said you didn’t have to watch anything, but I am going to need help getting that thing back down,” he explained. “I can get you whatever you want as payment. Deer, rabbit, anything.”

The other man brushed grass from his trousers, looked at the deer and sighed deeply. “Alright.” He took a few steps towards the animal and then stopped, lifting his head to look at the trees.

“Okay?” Fabrizio asked, bending down to lift the deer’s head. He thought it might be easier on Ermal’s sensitive disposition to take charge of its lower half. Ermal didn’t answer. His head kept turning slowly from right to left, and then back again. Fabrizio frowned, leaving the deer and moving towards the other man. “Hey, Ermal, are you okay?”

He put a hand on the man’s shoulder and he flinched, his head snapping to the right. “Can you hear something?”

Fabrizio paused and listened intently. He could hear the wind rushing through leaves, but aside from that, nothing. “No.”

Ermal inhaled deeply through his nose and took a step away, sniffing the air again. “What are you doing?” Fabrizio asked incredulously. “Listen, we have to get back. Come and help me.”

He marched over to the deer, only to find that Ermal hadn’t obeyed his order. The other man was walking slowly, slightly crouching as he peered into the trees. Fabrizio watched him, wondering if Ermal really was insane after all, and if he should take the chance to run for it.

“Run!”

Ermal suddenly spun around and bolted at Fabrizio, crashing into him, trying to move him with the force of his body. He looked wild with panic.

“What the…?”

A low roar cut him off and he looked towards the trees. Every animal had its own sound and he was very familiar with them. This one was a rumble that snapped off at the end, and he had heard it only twice in his life, but it was unforgettable. Only one animal sounded like that.

“Shit!” He grabbed Ermal’s shoulder and shoved him against a tree trunk. “Climb a tree now!” He gripped onto the lowest branch of a neighbouring tree and pulled himself up, and then climbed a little further into a nest of two thick branches that formed a seat. He readied the gun.

“Leave the deer. It wants the deer” Ermal called.

“I need that deer,” he retorted. “It’s the only decent thing I’ve seen all day and I don’t have enough money to buy food.”

There was an explosion of undergrowth and a bear leapt out, paws akimbo in a successful attempt to make itself look terrifyingly large. The brief second when it paused to determine the location of the intruder was enough for Fabrizio to let off one shot into its shoulder. It roared with pain and attempted to charge, a little slower because of its injured leg, which gave him time to shoot it in the face. The shot didn’t seem to register and that was an unpleasant shock. There wasn’t time to aim again before the bear was in front of his tree, standing on hind legs and swiping its paws at him.

“Hey!”

The bear turned, confused, to see another intruder scrambling onto a branch in a nearby tree. It bounded over there and stood up to reach. Ermal, evidently miscalculating its height, squeaked and drew his legs up. Fabrizio fired another shot into the back of its head. It turned, roared and charged back towards him. He kept firing into its head and chest, but nothing was working, until finally he managed to land a bullet just behind its front flank. That one seemed to strike. The bear stumbled sideways and then made for the trees.

Once it was out of sight, he turned to Ermal, standing on one branch with his hands wrapped around the one above it. Fabrizio was unable to discern much more of him amongst the shadows. “How did you see that?” he asked. This time there was a reply. “I…I can see very well in the dark. There are no lights in the house so I’ve had to adjust” he added.

“That’s incredible. I can’t believe you…” He suddenly felt dizzy and grabbed the tree for balance. “Thank you. You saved my life.”

“I-It’s nothing,” Ermal said. “You don’t owe me anything, really. In fact, I think you saved me so…”

Fabrizio shook his head. “I would be dead if you weren’t here. I can’t believe you…” He felt a hysterical chuckle rise in his throat and ran a hand through his hair. “Anyway,” He jumped out of the tree. “Get down here. Let’s move this deer before it comes back.”

They managed to carry the deer down the hill without further incident, and Ermal led the way to the meadow which would bring them home. The octagonal house was a welcome sight to both. Fabrizio asked if the outhouse had a place where he could hang the deer until morning, but apparently it was empty, so it was left suspended in the main house while he got started on the shield.

Neither of them mentioned the bear, and Fabrizio was grateful for that. It caused shivers of fear and gratitude if he thought too hard about it. Nevertheless they would occasionally catch the other’s eye and a slight smile would cross their features.

“I can’t believe you fought a bear for a catch” Ermal muttered as he watched Fabrizio coat the wood with varnish. “I can’t believe you can see in the dark” he replied, shaking his head. Ermal shot a smirk across the room and didn’t respond.

The first shield was a simple image, a pure black background with a dark grey boar's head baring its tusks in the centre. It wasn't a great work, Fabrizio thought critically, but the colours brought Claudio's robes to mind and the boar...Well, a creature that was small and deceptively fierce was the ideal mascot for his friend. He worked long into the night on it, even after Ermal had curled up on his pallet and gone to sleep, and his eyes were bloodshot when the sun came up. He took his deer and dragged himself home.

**

Fabrizio half-expected to be swallowed by hellfire as soon as he stepped into the church. He hadn't been in months, not even at Easter. The building resided at the top end of the village, surrounded by shrubbery where the children liked to play hide-and-seek, and overlooking a panoramic view of the valley which stretched for miles and encompassed all four of the villages which sat between here and the mountains. The building itself was white stone with a circular stained glass window in the centre and a tower containing three working bells. Claudio’s small house sat behind it, almost entirely hidden from everyone approaching on the path. Fabrizio liked looking at it. He just never felt the need or desire to go inside, except on Christmas, when there was singing.

Ermal was with him, holding the completed shield, with no wrapping so everyone could see it and admire. He gazed in awe around the space, admiring the mosaic floor, the marble statues, the stained glass windows, and the gold ornaments on the altar. Lest anyone mistakenly believe that he was being overwhelmed by the presence of the Holy Spirit, he turned to Fabrizio and whispered, “This place is a thief's dream.” His voice carried around the hallowed space and Fabrizio had to work hard not to laugh.

Claudio walked down the aisle towards them, silver incense dispenser swinging, wearing a black cassock with a cape and red trimmings. Ermal immediately tried to touch it. Fabrizio pulled his hand back. He could forgive Ermal's lack of social etiquette, knowing how he lived, but others may not be so understanding. “We brought your new shield” Ermal declared proudly, handing it over. Fabrizio held his breath. Claudio had never seen his art before- nobody whose opinion mattered to him ever had- and he was both terrified and childishly hopeful about what his response might be.

“My goodness, my family seal is a boar? Astonishing! I love it! Look at it, so strong and defiant.”

Fabrizio breathed again. Claudio's hands went to his pockets, only to remember that he didn't have any. “Excuse me, let me get the money to pay you.” He walked to the back room, the shield still in his hands, and Fabrizio reflected on the fact that Claudio was the only person in the world that he would trust to return with payment. Did that say more about the people or about him?

“Hello, Fabrizio. It's a nice surprise to see you here.”

He turned to see Andrea standing by the pews, looking curiously from him to Ermal. “I'm just here to deliver something to Claudio” Fabrizio said.

“Anything interesting?”

“A shield.”

“Why would Claudio want a shield? Is he going to war?”

“It's his family crest,” Fabrizio explained. “My friend here paints them.”

Andrea promptly turned his attention to Ermal. “Hello” he said, coming over to shake his hand.

“Hello.”

“I'm Andrea Ra, the leather worker of these parts, and you are?”

“Ermal.”

“No surname?”

“He's a wood carver” Fabrizio interjected. Andrea nodded. “Very nice. We don’t have many of those around here.”

“Here you are” Claudio declared, rejoining the party. He carefully counted coins into Fabrizio’s waiting palm. Andrea watched with the same mischievous smirk that had got them into trouble many times before.

“It doesn't seem appropriate to make purchases in the Lord's House, Father. There is a reason we have the market days” he remarked.

“What could I do when the delivery was brought to my door?” Claudio replied immediately. “The Commandments say thou shalt not steal. Apologies, Lord. Are you staying for the Sunday school?”

“No.”

“Yes.”

Fabrizio and Andrea looked in surprise at the curly one. “The Sunday school is for children, Ermal. He didn't...”

“All are welcome, especially new faces,” Claudio cut in eagerly. “Today we are reading the Parable of Job.”

“Well, have fun,” Fabrizio said quickly, and nodded to Claudio. “Thanks.”

“It will hang in pride of place. Not that I...” the priest began, with a glance at Andrea. The other man was already turning, walking to catch up to Fabrizio.

“How much do the shields cost?” he asked.

“Twenty-five, but for a friend, I can drop it to twenty.”

“I'll pay you twenty-five.”

“Only because you know I'll ask for a discount in return.”

Andrea grinned and patted his shoulder. “That's exactly why.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been a few weeks since Ermal and Fabrizio's meeting, and the ice is starting to melt.

Something strange was happening. Fabrizio's mood and life ought to be grim at the moment. It always was when work wasn't going well, and the wolf had managed to elude him completely for three weeks, leaving no trace whatsoever of its presence. He was starting to fear that it had gone back to its own territory, but the potential catastrophe had been downgraded to a minor annoyance because something amazing was happening, and his name was Ermal.

At the Tuesday market after delivering Claudio’s shield, the orders had started to roll in. It started with one person saying that Father Bielli had showed it to the whole congregation and it looked fantastic, and then it became five, then eight, then twelve. Fabrizio and Ermal had looked at each other with a mixture of amazement and horror, but it was too late to back out, and so they had rolled up their sleeves and got on with their new business.

Ermal had expanded beyond the simple circle for everyone to more intricate designs. Fabrizio spent hours rendering coats of arms onto the varnished wood. Dark red with a silver wolf's head, deep blue with a muscular brown bear, brilliant white with a golden lion, purple with a bronze eagle. Fabrizio let his artistic side take the lead. They probably weren't the actual ancestral sigils of the people who had requested them, but it wasn't as if anyone knew the difference. As long as they were bold, customers were happy to pay. No-one wanted to be told that their family crest was a hedgehog.

He also painted for no good reason. Since he had his supplies with him for the shields and bones, which he would also carve while Ermal was creating his woodwork, he would sometimes make some simple pencil sketches or even settle in to depict the hills in watercolour paints. Objectively it was a waste of time, but it felt good to create art. It felt good when Ermal watched over his shoulder and made awestruck sounds. It felt good simply to relax in the presence of someone he liked.

They got along remarkably well. Fabrizio was no social butterfly so his level of experience was low, but he'd never met anyone so like him- a skilled hunter with a love of art and mild dislike for social interaction- and yet so different from him. When a baby robin redbreast landed in front of them, Ermal forbade them to move while he stared at it, a smile splitting his face, repeating how small and cute and sweet it was. Fabrizio's first thought had been that it was too small to be of any practical use. Ermal's view of the world was something of an eye-opener. That was why he liked him so much, Fabrizio decided. The other man reminded him of what it was like to think positively.

Twice a week they shared a stall to sell their wares, and increasingly Fabrizio thought about asking Ermal if he wanted to come to the tavern for a drink and some food. Deep down he hoped that would kill enough time that Ermal wouldn't be able to walk home until morning. He had no designs to take advantage of the other man, of course not, but he liked spending time with him and the idea of doing so in relaxed surroundings without some kind of distraction appealed greatly.

Today was another market day and Fabrizio was setting up, looking every few seconds to check whether Ermal was coming. He made silly little deals with himself. If I don’t look for ten seconds, he’ll be there. No. If I finish this row of spoons without looking, he’ll be there. No. If I decide that I don’t care if he’s coming or not, he will come. Yes.

Fabrizio smiled at the sight before him and then looked down, pretending he hadn’t noticed the other man’s approach. Ermal always managed to show a sense of style and individuality even with his limited clothing options. There were no all-black ensembles for him, instead he would sport a blue bandana around his neck to colour a white shirt, or tie a long red ribbon around his straw hat as he had done today. There were plenty of people who had bands around their hats, but no-one else sported two silk tails dangling behind them and bouncing merrily as they walked.

“Good morning, Fabrizio.”

He turned as if for the first time. Ermal was carrying a large rectangle under his arm. “Good morning. New shield design?”

“No, this is for you.”

The other man came around the stall and handed over the package. Fabrizio laid it on the counter and removed the cloth covering it, finding a painting underneath. Three-quarters of it was black sky with many small white dots as decoration, and one large circle in the centre. The final quarter was given to the dark grey silhouettes of trees and the ground. “It’s beautiful” he said, disbelief robbing his voice of volume.

Ermal chuckled. “No, it’s not. You left your paint with me and my skills can handle a black sky. I just think that the forest is especially beautiful at night. I have the sun in my house. You can have the moon in yours.”

Fabrizio felt his throat threatening to close over with emotion. “This is a lovely gift. Thank you.” He put the cloth back over it and carefully placed it against the wall where no-one would see or try to steal it.

The usual business of selling was undertaken, the proceeds were split, and the crowds began to thin as hunger called them away. Fabrizio packed up his spare supplies, always keeping an eye on Ermal to make sure he didn’t leave, trying to rally his courage.

“Are you planning to come to the house this week?” Ermal asked.

“I don’t know if I’ll have time. The butcher wants a bit of game and a couple of the girls want fox fur shawls. Who would have guessed that Mr Martelli would be such a style inspiration?”

Ermal smiled. “If you’re coming, it’d probably be better if you come early in the week. I’m going berry-picking.”

“A busy week for us both then. Maybe we should leave the shield orders until next week” Fabrizio suggested.

“Maybe,” Ermal nodded. He turned to go. “I guess I’ll see you at the next market then.”

“Do you want to have lunch before you go?”

Blurting that out so quickly was not how Fabrizio had imagined issuing the invitation, but time was of the essence. Ermal did stop and turn back to him. “Well…I suppose so. That would be nice” he said. Such a hesitant acceptance wasn’t what Fabrizio had hoped for either, but it was still an acceptance, and he was pleased with that.

The tavern’s menu was written in chalk outside the double doors. The owner’s daughter refreshed the writing every day, although the items themselves never changed.

Crackers  
Beef strips  
Raisins  
Apples  
Bread of the day  
Cheese of the day  
Soup of the day  
Pasta of the day

“Do you see anything you like?” Fabrizio asked. Ermal tilted his head as if that would aid him in reading. “What’s Bucatini?” he asked.

“That’s tubular pasta. The sauce is just cheese and tomato. It’s nice.”

“That sounds nicer than vegetable soup” Ermal remarked. “It does,” Fabrizio agreed, pushing open the two. “We’ll have two. I’ll order. You get the drinks.”

He ordered the food and looked around to check for a table, spying one by the window on the far side, near the stairs that led to the rooms. He brought the plates over and set them down, turning back to fetch Ermal, only to find the other man on his tail with an elegant wine bottle in hand.

“He says you have to pay for it” Ermal said nervously. He was holding the bottle like a child, with a stunned expression that suggested it had been forced on him.

“Sit down and start eating. I’ll be back in a second.”

He crossed the room to where the owner was wiping down the counter, humming to himself. “I believe I owe you for a bottle of red wine” Fabrizio remarked. The man looked up and smiled warmly. “Yes, that is 20 lira.”

“Did you make him take the most expensive kind?”

The smile got wider. “The finest red wine in Lazio. Only the best for our guests.”

“Of course,” Fabrizio returned the smile. “I’ll also take a pitcher of water. I notice that’s free.”

He returned to the table, 20 lira lighter and one jug of water heavier, to find Ermal red-faced and choking. “Here, drink some water!” Fabrizio almost thrust the pitcher into his hands and he drank greedily.

“What happened?” Fabrizio asked, sitting down across from him. “Did you choke on the pasta?”

Ermal shook his head. “I’ve never had wine before. That was like drinking fire!” he gasped.

Fabrizio pulled the bottle towards him and turned it to read the label. “It’s 66% alcohol” he reported.

“Is 66% a lot?” Ermal asked. Fabrizio looked at him, trying to tell if he was joking, and decided that he wasn’t. “Yeah, it's a lot,” he said. “They sell grape juice here for the kids. I can get you that. Just as well I had the water. You looked like your head was about to explode.”

“I don't want a kid's drink. Can I have something with a smaller percentage?”

“Sure.” Fabrizio got up, taking the wine bottle with him, and requested two tumblers of whiskey. The owner cheerfully went to the back room to get them, and Fabrizio cheerfully replaced whatever was in the man’s flask with Lazio’s finest red wine. See how he liked the joke when it was on him.

“This is my personal favourite,” he said, returning to the table. “There's nothing as comforting as whiskey in my experience. Try it.” He passed one tumbler to Ermal and finally made a start on his lunch, watching the other man carefully tip the glass into his mouth. He pulled a face, and then did it again and smiled.

“Oh, that's nice.”

Fabrizio nodded and continued eating. “Can I have another?” Ermal requested. The money was passed across the table and he disappeared, returning with yet another glass which was also drained quickly.

“I feel a bit dizzy now.”

“Eat. It will make you feel better.”

In the spirit of adventure, Ermal tried beer and vodka as well, but he liked nothing so much as the whiskey. He had two more glasses of the amber liquid before Fabrizio cut him off, finally realising that he could account for only one of the growing number of tumblers on their table.

Even with the pasta, Ermal was noticeably tipsy by the time their cue came to leave, in the form of the owner doing a fantastic spit-take from his flask. As his daughter moved to help, and someone whose shirt was now decorated with a red stripe moved to complain, Fabrizio took Ermal’s arm and escorted him back to the street.

“Is he okay?” Ermal asked, trying to crane his neck to look back.

“He’s fine. It’s time to go home.”

Ermal pulled out of his grip and stumbled along the cobblestones, arms out like a bird to keep his balance. Fabrizio walked alongside on the kerb, arm half-outstretched as Ermal came closer to him, dangerously close to the raised stones that could trip him up. The curly-haired man grinned up at him.

“You're taller than me now” he declared.

“I am.”

“I'm still tall enough though.”

“Tall enough for what?”

Ermal ignored him and started singing quietly. Fabrizio listened carefully and realised that he was repeating one line over and over. “The bells of the Angelus are calling to pray, in sweet tones announcing the secret of A. Of A! Of A! Of A! Maria! Of A...”

Fabrizio bit his lip to keep from laughing. “I feel sorry for A, having their secret announced to everyone” he remarked. Ermal broke off singing to reply. “Me too.”

Fabrizio grinned at him and looked down the street, the smile slipping off his face at what he saw there.

“It's a very mean thing to do, I think...” Ermal was still talking about the misfortunate A.

“Ermal, shush” he said sharply. Ahead of them were the corner boys, Francesco, Alessandro and Stefano, loitering in their usual spot and calling at the girls as they walked past.

“You're a fine woman! I wouldn't mind having you in my herd!” they declared, paying their version of a compliment. The woman picked up her pace and they turned their attention to the next one in sight. “Ha, I'd rather court a stick! Go on home, hurry up now!”

Fabrizio stopped and held out a hand to keep Ermal back, looking around for an alley they could cut through. It wasn't as if he was scared of three men younger than he was, but...he was cautious. They were known to fight as a pack and had caused some bad injuries to others. Fabrizio had managed to scare them off once and he generally avoided them in case he was unable to do it again.

There was an alternative path to the right and he turned to tell Ermal to follow, only to find that Ermal wasn't with him. In his whiskey-soaked stupidity, he had sauntered right past and directly into the path of those men.

“Nice ribbon” Francesco remarked, causing chuckles from his companions. Francesco was the true leader of the group, confident in his status, unlike Alessandro who was always trying to prove himself by being as much of an asshole as possible. Stefano was just there most of the time. If it wasn't for the other two, he'd probably be a decent person.

Ermal turned as if he hadn't even noticed them before, and beamed in response. “Thank you” he said, winding one of the silk strands around his finger as he spoke. They were nonplussed for a moment before rallying.

“Where'd you get that, from your sister?” Alessandro asked.

“No, from my mother.”

They laughed uproariously and Fabrizio felt the cold hand of fear grip his heart. It was exactly like watching a group of predators smelling blood, surrounding their prey, testing its strength and level of resistance before starting the attack. And Ermal just stood there, turning curiously as they circled him, completely oblivious to the danger.

Francesco began the assault, grabbing the end of the ribbon and pulling it off the hat. Ermal spun around, crying out in shock. “That's mine!” He stepped forward and like a playground bully, Francesco stepped back.

“I want that back. It's special.”

“Ooh, it's special” Alessandro mocked. Francesco tossed the ribbon to him and he crumpled it into a ball in his fist.

“My mother gave that to me.”

Ermal's voice broke with tears and the effect was like the cry of an injured animal, advertising their vulnerability to the predators. It was only a ribbon! Fabrizio wanted to yell at him to come here, let them have it, stop playing along with their game. But even if he did, Ermal was trapped between them. He was too weak and they thought he was alone and they would hurt him if they saw the chance. Fabrizio wasn't going to let that happen.

“Do you want to pick on someone your own size?” he demanded. His hands shoved Alessandro away, causing him to stumble, and he wondered how on earth he’d ended up over here when he didn’t remember moving.

“What’s this, you can’t fight your own battles?” Francesco asked. Fabrizio rounded on him. “Walk away.”

“Or what?”

“Or we have a problem.”

“You have a problem.” Francesco shoved him hard on both shoulders. “Come on, let’s see how good you are without a gun.”

Fabrizio scoffed derisively and turned away, pushing Ermal to walk in front of him. “Keep going, don’t look back” he ordered quietly. Ermal obediently scuttled ahead, head down. Fabrizio kept his hand ready to push him again if he started to slow too much, but there wasn’t a chance for that to happen. He heard footsteps behind him growing louder and faster. “Oh no. Start running.”

He took Ermal’s hand without thinking and dragged him along as he broke into a sprint. Ermal panicked, trying to pull them to a halt, yelling at Fabrizio to let him go or he’d fall, but the momentum was too much for him to fight. Even if he had fallen, Fabrizio’s speed probably would have dragged him at least a small distance before stopping, but somehow he stayed on his feet.

They reached the house and Fabrizio pushed the door open, shoved Ermal inside ahead of him and spun around to close the door as he followed. The trio were almost upon them. Fabrizio grabbed one of the guns on the wall, an ornamental musket that couldn’t fire anything, and turned to point the barrel at the door as it opened. Alessandro stopped dead when he saw what greeted him, Francesco and Stefano slamming into his back as they failed to stop.

“You’re on my property. Take one more step and I’ll blow your damn head off.”

They paused. For a second he didn’t know if they would actually call his bluff or not, but then Alessandro’s face twisted with fury. “Watch your back” he warned, and then spat on the floor before withdrawing.

“Did I get you in trouble?” Ermal asked quietly. Fabrizio’s shoulders sagged and he shook his head as he replaced the gun. “No, you didn’t” he replied wearily. He walked over and pulled Ermal into a hug. “Are you okay?”

He felt rather than saw the nod, and the fingers which gripped his shirt at the back.

“I should go home” Ermal murmured. They both turned to look out of the window. There was no-one in sight, but that didn’t mean there was no-one outside. Fabrizio had successfully made this house a sanctuary. The streets remained fair game.

“I’d prefer if you didn’t walk through the village alone right now” he said.

“Do you think they’ll hurt me?”

Fabrizio didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing, and that was an answer in itself. Ermal looked like he was about to cry.

“You can take the bed,” Fabrizio said quickly, falling back on pragmatism. “I’ll take the mezzanine.”

He couldn’t comfort Ermal with kind words, but he could do this, he could take the burden and make him feel safe. It was too painful to see him upset. The poor boy up in his sheltered house had probably never experienced anything like that in his life.

“No, it’s your house. I’ll take the mezzanine” Ermal insisted.

“It’s boiling hot up there.”

“All the more reason for me to take it” he replied, and just to prevent any more argument, he turned and climbed the ladder into the roof space then and there.

“I’ll throw you up my spare pillows. Tell me if you need a blanket, but hopefully it’ll be hot enough in there that you don’t need it.”

“I have prickles already, so I think I’ll be fine. Thank you,” he added. “For not leaving me. You didn’t have to do that. I mean, you’re the one who has to live here.”

“I’ve had run-ins with those guys before,” Fabrizio said dismissively. “They’re cowards with big egos and they pick on anyone who looks weaker than them. Of course I wasn’t going to leave you.”

Ermal looked down at him for a moment, and it wasn’t the right time to think about how cute he looked lying on his stomach with his chin on his hands, so Fabrizio chased that errant idea out of his head immediately.

“You’re a good person.”

Fabrizio shrugged, caught between delight and embarrassment. “I haven’t heard that very often.”

“I’m surprised too,” Ermal replied casually, sitting up and moving out of sight. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hoped you enjoyed and if you did, a kudos or a comment would mean so much to me.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the unfortunate ending to their meal, it's a day at the races and another chance to spend time together...providing nothing else gets in the way.

The stupid rooster roused him at 5.30am and he spent five minutes grumbling into his pillow and entertaining violent fantasies against it before he submitted to rising. He climbed the ladder to the mezzanine and found Ermal still asleep, curled up at the far end, protected from the noise. Fabrizio left a note on the kitchen table in case his guest awoke before his return, and set off towards the farms.

Mr Martelli was out feeding the chickens and Fabrizio waved over the fence to get his attention. “Three eggs please” he requested.

“White or brown?”

“Brown.”

“That’s fifteen.”

He got the money out as the farmer returned, bearing a small box of three eggs. “By the way, are you coming to the race?” he asked. Fabrizio frowned at the unexpected question.

“Shining Waters is running” Mr Martelli said, as if that should mean something.

“I see. Well, I’ll think about it.”

“If you do, make sure you put money on Shining Waters.”

Fabrizio returned home, and at the second before he opened the front door, suddenly worried that Ermal would have just up and left already. It didn’t matter about the food, he could eat three eggs on his own, but he would prefer to see the other man home to make sure he got there safely. He stepped inside and the first thing he saw was Ermal sitting at the edge of the mezzanine, legs resting on the ladder.

“I’ve got breakfast” Fabrizio said.

“I know, your note said so. I thought I should stay for that.”

“Only if you’re hungry.” He put the eggs on the table and started to boil the water. “Are these okay? If I may say so, I’m not bad at eggs. I can do fried, boiled or scrambled if you like.”

“Not poached?”

“No,” He looked at the other man despairingly. “Don’t tell me you want poached eggs, please.”

“I don’t,” Ermal assured him. “I just think it’s funny.”

“What? Oh, that I can’t poach eggs. Ha ha, very funny,” Fabrizio turned back to his kitchen. “What would you like then?”

“Can I have a boiled egg?”

“Of course. Do you like them with soldiers?” There was silence and he glanced back at a very bemused face. “I mean pieces of toast.”

“I’ve never tried that” Ermal said.

“We’ll change that. Sit down,” Fabrizio gestured at the table. “Breakfast will be with you shortly.”

*

Fabrizio ate his scrambled eggs and tried to ignore vague thoughts about buying sausages and potatoes, maybe a few berries if there were any in season, for his evening meal. Ordinarily he would only have cheese and tomato on toast with a glass of milk, so he didn’t know where he got the image of peeling spuds like a housewife for her five children. Or maybe he did.

Ermal’s eyes had gone wide when he sliced the top off the egg. “The yellow bit was solid in Mama’s eggs” he said, and then started dipping soldiers. It seemed to be a little game for him and he looked so happy doing it. Fabrizio loved watching him. It made him think of the corner boys, how they would respond to a display like this, and they would be far from the only ones. There were two kinds of people in the world, he decided. There were those who saw vulnerability and wanted to destroy it, and those who wanted to protect it. He liked to think of himself as the latter. He could be hard, very hard, but he would never set out to hurt someone weaker than him. That was something only cowards did.

“There’s a horse race in the village today,” he remarked conversationally. Ermal paused and, his mouth currently full of egg, attempted to convey his interest through nodding. “I know my last invitation had some unintended consequences and I don’t want to take over your whole day, but if you have no plans…”

Ermal swallowed. “To be honest, those men not included, I had fun yesterday. It would be more fun than sitting in the house on my own.”

Fabrizio nodded as if the answer didn’t mean much and went back to eating, hiding a smile behind his fork.

*

The streets at the edge of the village were full of people, lined up alongside the field where the race would take place. The only stalls open were the tavern owner and his daughter feeding everyone as usual, and a gambling booth run by their one and only policeman. Ermal stuck close to Fabrizio’s side, gazing around with a mixture of awe and fear.

“What do you think, should we bet on the horses for money or glory?” Fabrizio asked.

“I don’t mind. Whichever you think.”

“I think money.”

He joined the line at the gambling booth. The four horses competing were named alongside their identifying colours on a board next to it. Red Robin was the best bet, followed by Shining Waters, and then Sunny Day and finally Lucky Dip. This was hardly a national race full of big winners and losers, but then again, they were only a small village. There were bound to be a lot of winners with so few choices, and that would prevent people from getting angry and rowdy at throwing their hard-earned money away. As gambling went, it was a nice way of doing things.

“Who are we supporting?” Ermal asked. “Red Robin” Fabrizio replied immediately.

“Why that one?”

“Red is the colour of champions.”

Ermal peered past him towards the board. “I'll support the yellow one,” he declared. “I like yellow.”

“That's not a good horse. It's only won a couple of times. Red Robin and Shining Waters are the best.”

“I like yellow” Ermal repeated. Fabrizio blew out a sigh. “Alright, Sunny Day to win.”

“It doesn't have to be to win” Ermal said.

“It does if you want to get any return.”

Fabrizio wasn’t sure since they were in the middle of a jostling crowd, but it felt like Ermal held his hand for a second, and not as if he’d been knocked off balance but…They were at the top of the queue now and there was no time to consider any further. “2 on Red Robin to win, another 2 on Sunny Day for the same” he ordered.

“Wonderful, sir, thanks so much.”

He was parted from his money and handed two tickets, one of which was immediately given to Ermal. “I'll pay you back if I win” the other man said. Fabrizio shrugged. “It's going to be so annoying if Shining Waters comes through now.”

“Maybe we should put money on it too.”

“Do you think I'm made of money?” he retorted, but Ermal was no longer listening. He was looking into the crowd.

“Fabrizio, look. They’re here.”

He looked and saw the corner boys gathered around the fountain, harassing the girls as usual. With such a large gathering, they were having the time of their lives. “We’re in a crowded public place and I’m with you. It’s fine,” he said. “Will we go and see your horse?”

They walked up the dirt path where the horses were waiting for their time to shine, being brushed and petted by their owners and young men who were acting as jockeys for the day. Red Robin was a shining black horse who looked very dramatic in his crimson coat, followed by the gentler blue on Shining Waters’ white back. The other two were grey, Sunny Day light and dappled, Lucky Dip a dark charcoal. If horses were at all fashion-conscious, they would be put to shame in their faded yellow and green.

“Oh, is this my horse?” Ermal asked, picking up speed. “It must be. It has a yellow coat.”

“That's Sunny Day” its owner confirmed. Ermal climbed onto the fence and leaned over to pat its nose. “Hello horsey.”

Sunny Day replied with a horrible high-pitched cry that sounded uncomfortably like a scream, and reared up, front hooves flailing. Once again Fabrizio was startled by how fast he could move. He heard some unintelligible shout come from his throat and then he had somehow grabbed Ermal’s collar from a foot away and dragged him back. Even stranger, his arms had wound up wrapped around the other man and his body had half-turned as if he was shielding him. He swiftly let go and straightened up. Sunny Day’s owner had leapt into action as well, grabbing the bridle to make the horse put all four hooves on the ground. The other horses were now pawing the ground and whinnying with distress.

“Get back!” one of the owners yelled.

“I’m sorry!”

Ermal’s eyes had gone wide and glassy, and he was shaking when Fabrizio touched his shoulder. He gave him a light push, trying to get him moving. “I spooked it,” Ermal said. “I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault, stupid horse could have killed you. Come on.”

He parked Ermal on a wall near the food stall and joined the queue, trying to keep an eye on him as much as possible as he waited. He knew that he wasn’t being a very comforting presence, but he’d never been good at that, and illogical anger was bubbling under the surface that had nowhere to go. Stupid horse, it should go to the slaughter if they couldn’t control it. Stupid Ermal, trying to treat such a powerful and easily unnerved animal like a pet dog. Stupid Fabrizio too, who kept bringing him to places that he knew he was badly adapted for just because he liked to spend time with him. His leg was starting to jump. He shook it out and looked at Ermal. Maybe he should leave him alone. He’d managed fine for all these years until Fabrizio stormed into his life and started giving him biweekly panic attacks. Ermal wasn’t a wild animal to be tamed, and admittedly the knife would have to go deep to cut him out of Fabrizio’s life, but it could be done.

They ate some cannoli and Fabrizio tried not to let the Last Supper atmosphere get the better of him. He was on his third pastry, and Ermal had finished, when the call went up that the race was starting. The crowd rushed to get a good view at the fence. Fabrizio and Ermal, by silent mutual assent, turned around on the wall to watch.

It was a good race. Lucky Dip fell behind quickly and it was as expected for most of the field, Red Robin and Shining Waters against each other, Sunny Day slightly behind on the inside. And then Red Robin began to flag.

“What? No, no, no!” Fabrizio yelled.

It was Shining Waters in the lead and he thought his despair was complete, but then Sunny Day had a burst of energy and surged up alongside the blue horse, and there was hope again.

“Come on, Sunny Day! Come on, come on, you stupid horse!”

The stupid horse heard him and slipped past Shining Waters to cross the line. There was a collective gasp, some disbelieving cheers, and plenty of unhappy mumbles through the crowd.

“The winner is Sunny Day!” the mayor announced. “Did anyone have a stake on Sunny Day?”

For a second too long, no-one answered. “He did!” Fabrizio shouted, pointing to Ermal, who looked as if he would like to crawl inside his jacket like a turtle. The mayor shielded his eyes and squinted in their direction. “Come up and collect your prize, young man,” he called. “Bring your ticket.”

“Did no-one choose the yellow one?” Ermal asked.

“Good news,” Fabrizio said. “That means it's all for you.”

He watched, feeling almost as proud as if Ermal had guided the horse to victory himself, picking out the curly head even across half a field as the mayor kept handing things to him. Ermal came back across the field at speed, running and pushing through the crowd with little regard for politeness. Fabrizio’s heart grew a little warmer. Poor boy must be so shy, he thought fondly. Ermal came sprinting up to the wall, extending his hand.

“This is for you,” he said urgently. “Take it, take it, take it.”

He sounded so desperate that Fabrizio didn’t hesitate to relieve him of the item. It was a silver cross on a long chain, impractical but pretty. “Thank you, but you don't have to give me anything. These are your winnings.”

“It's fine,” Ermal said quickly, rubbing his hand on his trousers. “I have this.” He opened his palm to show a white ring with a black gem imbedded in the centre.

Fabrizio jumped off the wall and closed his hand around it before some opportunist robbed it straight out of his palm. “That is nice. Are you going to sell it?” he asked.

“No, of course not. It's mine. They also gave me a knife. Isn't it pretty? It's got this nice design carved into the blade.”

Fabrizio eyed the weapon enviously. “I'd rather have that.”

“No, you don't get to choose your own gift” Ermal retorted, immediately pulling the knife out of his reach, and gave the slight smile that Fabrizio loved to see.

“Thank you for my gift,” he said. “I very much appreciate it.”

“It'll keep you safe from harm.”

If Fabrizio’s heart had felt a little warmer before, it was almost melting now. He didn’t know how to respond, so he simply smiled. “I’ll wear it always.”

Ermal smiled back, and they stood there in the middle of a teeming crowd, smiling inappropriately. After a few seconds, Ermal looked away and the bubble was broken. “Will we get some food?” Fabrizio suggested. Sausages and potatoes floated through his mind again.

Ermal shook his head. “I’m not very hungry. I think I should go home.”

“At the very least, you should take some food back with you” Fabrizio insisted, and after a moment of silence, Ermal nodded.

They wandered over to the tavern and looked at the menu board. “Do you feel up to lasagne?” Fabrizio inquired. Ermal shook his head. “I wonder if you could take a flask of soup. It’s not much, but…” He turned his head and saw Ermal speed-walking away, heading directly for the butcher’s shop. Fabrizio followed and found him standing in the doorway, staring at the racks of sausages.

“Of course, you could take some sausages. That would fill you up. How many do you want?” He looked at Ermal and was shocked to see tears in his eyes. “Hey…” He touched the other man’s shoulder and Ermal seemed to wake from a trance.

“Sorry, I just…I really like sausages. I haven’t had them for a while.”

“That changes today. How many do you want?”

“As many as you can…” Ermal suddenly stopped and looked away.

“Okay,” Fabrizio said slowly. “One line has twenty-five, so half?”

“A whole line if you can afford it.”

Ermal’s eyes had gone strangely blank and his voice had almost dropped to an inaudible level. He looked as if he was barely present. Oh God, not another one of these weird episodes. It had been weeks since the last one. Fabrizio approached the butcher and requested half a line of sausages. Ermal seemed to come back to reality as the meat was placed in his hands.

“Thank you,” he said, and immediately walked out of the shop. “I’m going to go home now. I don’t feel well.”

This was no surprise to Fabrizio. “I’ll come with you” he volunteered.

“It’s okay.”

“No, I mean I’m going home as well. I have to be up early tomorrow.”

They made their way out of the crowd and started heading for home, through streets that were far emptier than usual at this time of day.

“Are you hunting?” Ermal asked.

“Yes.”

The other man failed to hide his sigh and Fabrizio chose to ignore it. The rest of the journey passed in silence and then he could see his house up ahead, the point where he would have to say goodbye, perhaps for the last time. His steps began to slow, trying to prolong the inevitable.

Ermal suddenly groaned and bent over, holding his stomach. Fabrizio turned in alarm, realising that he hadn’t looked at Ermal since that passive-aggressive response to the hunting, and so had failed to notice how sick he had become during the walk. His skin looked almost yellow and his face was twisted in pain.

“Ermal, what’s wrong? Are you okay? No, stupid question.” Fabrizio gripped his shoulders and helped him to sit down. “What’s hurting? Did you eat something bad?”

His only response was a few deep breaths that sounded like Ermal was dragging air into his lungs with some difficulty. He was starting to writhe from side to side. “I have to go home” he said, forcing the words out.

“You don’t look well at all.” Fabrizio felt his forehead. His temperature was spiking. “You can stay tonight, it’s okay.”

Ermal shook his head vehemently. “I have to…”

“Oh dear,” Fabrizio knelt down and rubbed his back. “Hang on and I’ll get you something for your stomach.”

He ran up to the house, not even bothering to close the door behind him, and rifled through his drawers for his little sachets before remembering that he needed hot water to make them work. Damn it, he couldn’t bring boiling water down the street and he couldn’t get Ermal up here in time to prevent the mixture cooling. He grabbed the bottle of laudanum instead. It would knock him out there in the street, but Fabrizio had carried him before and he could do it again.

It couldn’t have been longer than four minutes before he made it back to the place where he’d left Ermal.

He was already gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd love to know your thoughts :)


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fabrizio is still watching out for the elusive wolf, but could it be that he's found something better?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another monster chapter for you to sink your teeth into :) Once I started writing, I couldn't stop and this is the result. I hope you enjoy.

Fabrizio went hunting as he’d planned that night. What he really wanted to do was scour the village and surrounding fields for Ermal, but he swiftly realised that he had no chance of finding him, and his orders for game and fox fur were still waiting to be serviced. He headed in the general direction of the octagonal house, looking out for game and for Ermal as he went. He would have called out for the other man, but the necessity of silence for hunting stilled his tongue.

In one way fortune smiled on him, as a bright full moon appeared from behind the clouds and provided a celestial light to accompany his dim lantern. He found a fox den quickly. The poor dumb animals liked to live close to the village so they could steal scraps of food. A couple of meatballs that the tavern had thrown out were all that were required, and then it was goodnight. His second order proved more difficult. He had gone a few miles without seeing anything, and was climbing a ridge in an attempt to check out the wider area, when the air was cut by a distinctive howl. Fabrizio nearly fell over.

As quickly as possible, he returned to ground level and concealed himself in some bushes, listening intently. His hopes were answered and he heard it again, a long mournful wail from somewhere in the distance. It was out! All thought of game were immediately chased from his mind. Hell, he could even take whatever the wolf planned to hunt. It took some self-control not to start sprinting towards the sound, but he forced himself to stay low and quiet as he moved towards it. It came from the direction of the mountains, but it was definitely closer to the forest. It was here. He was going to find it. Without thinking, his hand went to the silver cross around his neck and held it tightly. Let it bring him good fortune.

He followed the sound, hearing nothing and seeing no indication that the wolf had passed through this area. It must have come from the direction of the mountains and he changed course towards them. He’d kick himself if its den really was in those caves and he’d missed it. He’d go back up there and search again, in the unlikely event that he somehow missed the animal this time.

He thought he was getting close to the origin of the howl when another resounded through the trees, this one much louder and with a lower pitch that made it sound even eerier, coming from behind him. Fabrizio spun around. What the…How? No! He’d passed it? Rage flooded him, turning his blood warm, and he started to head back in the direction he’d come. Unbelievable! They had walked right past each other! How far away had it been? He licked his finger and tested the air. The wind was at his back now, so it wouldn’t have been able to smell him from its original position, but it could now. Fuck! He stood there for a moment, one hand gripping his gun, the other repeatedly pushing through his hair. What should he do now? Keep following, potentially chase it in circles or even drive it away entirely? Damn it!

It was almost a full minute before he was able to calm down enough to think logically. He would not chase, he decided. He would keep walking towards the mountains. He would look for tracks and find where it had come from. As long as he stayed on this side of the forest, the wolf would surely have to come back. If he found an elevated area, he might even be able to see it. That sounded like a plan, not an ideal one, but better than following howls for hours.

That was what he did. He walked deeper and deeper into the trees, crossing streams and climbing hills, scanning the forest from atop rocks. He found a few deer grazing in a small meadow and it killed him to realise that he couldn’t cart them around all night. The wolf’s howls could be heard every now and then, getting quieter as Fabrizio moved away. ‘I’m here, come and find me’, it taunted. Finally he found himself scaling a particularly large hill, one that gave excellent views of the area for miles around. He sat at the top and looked out over the valley, realising just how much land actually stretched between the village and the mountains, how many different directions the wolf could have come from. He’d made the wrong choice, he realised, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. It had been relatively close and he’d let it go. He had no chance of finding it now, not when he was exhausted and the sky was starting to turn blue. His best chance was gone.

He sat there until the sun had begun to peek over the horizon before admitting defeat. He was stumbling with fatigue as he headed towards home, and had walked for perhaps only fifteen minutes when he was brought face to face with a stone wall. It was a testament to how tired he was that he was initially confused by the sight of a building out here, before realising where he was. Huh. It wasn’t what he’d asked for, but the cross had given him a bit of good fortune after all. He walked around to the front door and knocked, more from hope than expectation, and received no answer. When he tried the handle, it proved to be unlocked.

“Knock knock.”

Ermal was lying on the pallet, curled up with his head on his arms. He looked completely worn out, but also so sweet and innocent. He also didn’t have a blanket, which was an unforgivable oversight. Fabrizio put his jacket over him, and then knelt beside him and ran his fingers through the tangled curls. “Hey, sleepy head” he whispered.

Ermal’s eyes slowly opened. “Fabri…? How long have you been here?”

“I just arrived. How are you feeling?”

“Alright,” he said, and immediately yawned widely. “Tired.”

“At least you made it home. Listen, I’ll have to take the catch home, but I’ll come straight back with some remedies and your winnings from the race. You dropped them yesterday.”

“Thank you” Ermal muttered, already closing his eyes again. Fabrizio smiled and let his hand wander down to Ermal’s face, stroking his cheekbone with a thumb and cupping his chin. “I’ll be back in an hour.”

As he walked home, he thought about the wolf, how he’d foolishly messed up his best chance, but he wasn’t going to stop looking and next time he would chase that animal to the ends of the earth to catch it. He was filled with determination, strategizing how he could engineer another meeting.

A snort interrupted his thoughts and he inclined his head slightly towards the trees. A wild boar was approaching, a small one with no tusks, perhaps a juvenile. It was more concerned with sniffing the ground than Fabrizio’s presence, and was trotting along with an almost merry gait. It was the least threatening boar he’d ever seen in his life and he sighed.

“Bad timing, little pig” he muttered, turning with gun in hand. He doubted that it even knew he was there, and it never got the chance to notice.

The butcher was already open and Fabrizio almost tossed the boar at him. The foxes were left in the house to be delivered another time. He quickly gathered his medicines and Ermal’s prizes, and went straight back into the trees.

It occurred to him that he’d promised to leave Ermal alone only yesterday, but he argued back that Ermal was sick and needed someone to take care of him. He was in no fit state to be left alone.

And what would happen when he was well again?

Fabrizio had no idea what would happen then, but he suspected that resolution would go the same way as the ones he’d made on countless New Year’s Eves.

Ermal was still fast asleep when he arrived, and Fabrizio patted his shoulder to wake him. “Time to get up. I’ll get some water and you have some medicine, and then we’ll try food, okay?”

“Are you going to be my nurse?” Ermal mumbled.

“I don’t know about that, but we’ll have a relaxing day. We can carve some things for the market if you’re up for that. Sound good?”

Ermal smiled and nodded without opening his eyes. “How was your hunting?”

Fabrizio scoffed good-naturedly at the reminder. “I heard it,” he said. “That wolf was out there somewhere and I couldn’t find it. It is really testing me.”

“Oh well,” Ermal sighed. “Maybe next time.”

**

Fabrizio made some hot tea and sat Ermal up to drink it, allowing him to lie down again when the cup was drained. He was asleep again in seconds. Fabrizio went out in search of food and, by the time he found a deer and came back, the tea had done its work and Ermal was awake enough to eat. Once the meat was shared, his energy returned and he started carving some wooden figures. Fabrizio passed the time by turning the deer's ribs into combs, occasionally watching Ermal. The blocks of wood were taking the distinct shape of chess pieces.

“Can you play chess?” he queried, beginning to paint his first batch of combs.

“I could once,” Ermal said. “I've forgotten it now.”

“We should play with one of your boards some time.”

“Sure. Can I have your black paint to do the squares?”

Fabrizio wordlessly passed the pot across to him. Peaceful silence reigned for a few minutes as they focused on their artwork.

“What about card games?”

Ermal looked up at him. “Like poker?” he asked.

“Sure, like poker, or even Snap.”

“I know how to play Snap.”

“Well, I have a set of cards at home. I can bring them up after lunch if you want.”

“Are you staying for lunch?”

Fabrizio lifted his eyes to meet Ermal's. The other man had abandoned his work and rolled onto his back, with his hands behind his head.

“Is that a question or an invitation?”

“It's an invitation. You fed me, I'll feed you. It'll have to be fish though. That's all I can catch.”

Fabrizio chuckled and Ermal pouted crossly. He rolled onto his side, putting his back to Fabrizio. “Man cannot live on fish alone,” the hunter warned, poking the other man with his toe. “I might have an idea to help you.”

Lunch that afternoon was indeed composed of fish and salt, and then they returned to their work. At least, Ermal busied himself with carving and Fabrizio took the opportunity to watch him without fear of discovery. He admired his hands as he turned the trinket around, the delicate fingers and nails which managed to stay long and perfect despite a life spent in the woods, the pale skin marked by small cuts gotten from the wood or the carving knife. Some of them were old, raised pieces of scarred skin. Others were new and stood out, very red against the white skin that surrounded them. Fabrizio loved looking at them, imagining where each had come from. They were a map of the life Ermal had lived far from prying eyes.

He looked down as Ermal inclined his head towards him, and after a few seconds, felt safe to lift his eyes again. The other man was still carving, running the knife gently over the figure and caressing it with his thumb to check for imperfections. Fabrizio felt strangely envious of the wood. Ermal's hair had fallen over his eyes, covering half of his face as he worked. It was too hot to have such long and wild hair, but Fabrizio hoped that he wouldn't cut it. It was his greatest attribute, a constant temptation for hands that wanted to sink into it.

He shook his head and looked away. Get a grip, he told himself.

It was neither a surprise nor a secret, at least not to him. He'd always known there was something strange about his feelings, but his parents said he'd grow out of it. He had stopped believing in God when he was twelve, after a sermon where the preacher said men who lay together would be cast into Hell. It had struck Fabrizio as unjust and selfish for the Creator to force his personal opinions on all the people of the world, and he decided that he couldn't offer thanks and praise to a deity who behaved like that.

He had thought about telling his mother, but decided to leave it until he was thirteen and a teenager. And then until he was eighteen and an adult. He actually tried when he was twenty-one, but her horrified reaction had persuaded him to backtrack, and he'd decided to give up. Telling people would only bring trouble. He knew what he was and that was enough.

There had been rumours, of course. A man who was over thirty and unmarried aroused attention, and people in villages loved to talk. The only trouble he'd ever gotten was from the corner boys, who decided to follow him out of the tavern and throw names at him.

“My goodness, Alessandro,” he had said calmly. “You weren't saying that last Sunday behind the cow shed. Or you, Stefano.”

No matter how much they tried to protest their innocence and call him a dirty liar, suspicion had been thrown into their midst and they were too busy arguing with each other to give him any more grief. In general, people didn't like to mess too much with a man who killed things for a living. Best to leave him alone, they decided.

“Are you okay?”

He blinked and looked at Ermal. “You were in a daze” the other man said.

“Oh, I was just thinking about nothing.”

“I've finished,” Ermal said proudly, gesturing to the stump between them. Next to a toy horse was a smaller and more delicate figurine, a wolf with its back straight and head lifted proudly. Fabrizio smiled at it. “It’s for you.”

“Thank you.”

He picked up the wolf and admired all the small details that Ermal had seen fit to include, the pointed ears and individual claws on the feet, even the tuft of fur at the neck and stray hairs on the end of the tail. “It's beautiful.”

“You can keep it. Now you have a wolf” Ermal said eagerly, and Fabrizio couldn't help grinning. He was so cute that it was almost unbearable.

“One day I will find that wolf, you know,” he said. “I admire it. I've never come across such a wily creature.”

“They say wolves are clever.”

“Well, it's only prolonging the inevitable. The more it evades me, the more I want it.”

“Why?” Ermal asked. “I know you want to preserve it, but why not just let it live?”

Fabrizio looked at him and wished he hadn’t. It was difficult to put his point across when those eyes were staring at him. “Once it dies, there will be no more left. I know we'll never agree on this, but it's important to me. Please don't be annoyed.”

He reached out and put his hand on Ermal’s, rubbing his thumb over the skin. The other man watched with a slight smile, one that looked a little too sad. “Good luck with finding it then” he said.

“Thank you for my gifts” Fabrizio repeated, hoping to move the conversation back to more pleasant topics and get rid of that unhappy look on Ermal’s face, but the other man simply nodded.

Fabrizio finally headed for home as the sky began to turn red. He asked after Ermal's health several times before leaving, and only the threat of having to sleep on a concrete floor if he didn't hurry persuaded him to go, with a promise to return tomorrow. Ermal smiled indulgently when he said that.

“I don't doubt it” he replied, and Fabrizio felt a twinge of embarrassment. He was clearly spending too much time around this man.

**

Even so, embarrassment clearly wasn't a powerful enough deterrent. When the rooster dragged him into the waking world next morning, Fabrizio didn't want to kill it for once, because the first thought in his mind was happiness that he was going to see Ermal again today. The second thought was surprise and horror that he was acting like a young girl attending her first dance. That was extremely worrying.

The first thing he had to do, however, was gather his supplies. He took a few more remedies in case the illness was clinging on, plus the cards and a shovel, and then went into the village. He bought some lengths of rope, a few small fox traps with metal teeth, and several fishing nets.

Ermal wasn’t around the front of the house, but Fabrizio found him easily, spying the bushy hair in the copse of trees. He was several metres away, sitting below a tree and eating some large purple fruit. He was dressed in white cotton, a loose shirt with the buttons open halfway down his chest and trousers rolled up to his knees. Fabrizio had a few seconds to make his presence known, but he was too distracted to make the most of them.

“Hi Fabrizio.”

Ermal stood and started walking towards him. He wasn’t wearing shoes and a small trickle of pink juice escaped his mouth, until he stuck his tongue out to lick it away. Fabrizio swallowed, realising that his throat was dry. He must have neglected his water flask for too long.

“Hi Ermal.”

The other man stopped in front of him and took another bite from the juicy pulp in his hand. “Are we painting today?”

“We can do. I think my paints are still with you.”

Ermal nodded and then craned his neck to look at Fabrizio’s back. “What are those?” he asked.

Fabrizio looked back, saw the flash of metal, and sighed. “They're fox traps.”

“Is this your idea to help me catch game?”

He shrugged. “It’s a bit like fishing, isn’t it? You lay the bait and wait for the prize to come to you. It might suit your skills more.”

Ermal crammed the rest of the fruit into his mouth and held out a still sticky hand. “Can I see it?” he requested. Fabrizio handed one over. The other man curiously pulled at the teeth, managing to separate them by a few centimetres before they snapped back together. He grimaced in horror.

“That looks painful.”

“It is.” Fabrizio was about to add that it would break the animal's leg to render them immobile, before he stopped himself. Ermal didn't want to hear all of this, and Fabrizio didn't want to make him sad or uncomfortable. He took the trap and gently pulled it from Ermal’s hands. “Anyway, I’ll show you how to set them up. Follow me.”

It took over an hour to set up all the traps, Ermal watching over his shoulder and occasionally asking questions about how they worked. Fabrizio couldn’t deny that it felt nice to have his friend take an interest, and the icing on the cake was that Ermal was smiling, apparently enjoying the time together as much as Fabrizio did. He demonstrated how to dig a pit and place a net over it to catch unwary animals, and then how to set up and bury the fox traps without accidentally snaring yourself, and finally he tied nooses and explained that they were to be hung from trees at the correct height for the chosen prey.

“How does that work?” Ermal asked nervously, watching Fabrizio secure the loop of rope as a demonstration. “Is the animal hung?”

“No, the noose will tighten when the animal puts its head through and it won't be able to get back out. It won't die. It'll just be trapped.”

“So it'll have to stand until you come to kill it?” Ermal asked, his bleeding heart making an appearance. “That's cruel. Don't make it suffer.”

“I'm sorry to be brutal, but if you kill an animal outright and leave its carcass in the forest for hours, you're not going to find much when you come back” Fabrizio retorted.

Ermal was silent for a moment, frowning at the rope, evidently trying and failing to come up with a counter-argument. “It's a little high, don't you think?” he remarked at last.

“I don't think so,” Fabrizio stepped back and perused his handiwork. “It looks about the right height to me.”

Ermal shook his head. “My favourite meat is rabbit. The noose needs to be closer to the ground and a lot smaller,” he said, gesturing with his hands. “A rabbit could jump through that.”

“That's why you have the pits. This is for larger game” Fabrizio explained.

“Like what? It's not tall enough for a deer. In fact…” Ermal paused and squinted, inclining his head to one side. “I think that's the height you'd choose for catching a wolf.”

“Well, it's not only for you.”

“I see.” Ermal glared at him, only briefly, but Fabrizio noticed. “Well, thank you for showing me. I’m sure it’ll be very helpful to find food. Are you staying to check them later?”

“I wouldn't impose” Fabrizio replied politely.

“It's okay. It'll be convenient. We can paint after dinner, if there is any dinner. I have another idea for now.”

*

Fabrizio looked around the clearing of verdant, bright green grass that Ermal had brought him to. It was surrounded by sentry-like trees and decorated with a rainbow of wild flowers. The scene was beautiful, an artist's fantasy, especially with sunlight streaming through the leaves and Ermal bouncing happily through the middle of the picture.

“Ready for today's lesson?” the other man declared. “I'm going to teach you a very important skill.”

“What skill is it?” Fabrizio asked jokingly. “Whistling on grass, perchance?”

“No,” Ermal stopped and turned to face him. “I wish I could teach you that, but I don't know how. This is easier. So as thanks for showing me the traps, I'm going to show you how to make a flower crown.”

“I see. A very important skill, clearly.”

“Don't be sarcastic, Fabrizio. You have lots of games and festivals in your village, right? These crowns would make great prizes for the victor.”

His wide-eyed excitement was impossible to resist. Fabrizio felt himself melting, setting aside the cynical voice that would have scoffed at the idea and told Ermal how the men would respond to being given a flower crown as a reward for their efforts. That voice had no place here.

“Alright, show me how this is done.”

“It's a bit intricate when you start, but it'll be very easy when you're used to it. Just watch my hands.”

Fabrizio gladly did so, admiring those long fingers as they pulled and twisted stems without snapping them, hypnotised by the repetitive motions and how pretty the veins in his arms were...Suddenly Ermal was presenting him with a completed bracelet of flowers and Fabrizio had no idea how he'd accomplished it.

“Do you want to try now?”

“Uh...Can you show me again?” he requested, embarrassed.

“Sure” Ermal agreed easily. He slipped the bracelet over his wrist and started gathering flowers for a new one. This time Fabrizio paid better attention, noting how Ermal looped the stems and pulled them through to attach them, reminiscent of a needle and thread. Fabrizio didn't know much about sewing, but he could tie his shoes and that was surely a similar movement.

Ermal dumped a bunch of flowers in his lap to begin his first solo project, and Fabrizio swiftly learned that what worked for the other man did not work so well for him. His hands were too big and kept snapping the stems. His loops did not attach flowers to each other, except with stems sticking out from either side and falling apart as soon as he let go, or winding around each other like fairground helter-skelters.

“I can't do this. Why won't it work?” he growled.

Warm hands on his own surprised him. Ermal had been on the other side of the meadow, busy with his own work, but now he was here in front of Fabrizio and he was looking directly into a pair of dark eyes that were as inviting as ever. That was strange, he thought vaguely. Why was he looking at his eyes? Why was Ermal looking at him and not the flowers? The other man smiled and Fabrizio felt something like rubber snapping in his gut. Oh no.

He abandoned the flower crowns. No surrender. Whatever effect this man was having on him, it was making him far too sentimental and that was something he had no time for. He lurked at the edge of the meadow, watching Ermal adorn himself in floral necklaces and bracelets, and finally a headpiece made of red and yellow flowers. He approached Fabrizio with another in his hands, this one blue and white.

“This is for you.”

“What have I won to earn it?” he muttered irritably.

“Your skill at hunting” Ermal suggested.

Despite himself, Fabrizio gave a slight smile. “If I was a truly great hunter, I would have found that wolf before now.”

Ermal sighed, turning the crown in his hands. “Your skill at painting then.”

“Maybe,” Fabrizio remarked. “I'm not sure how much competition I have though.”

Ermal sat down on the grass with a flump and placed the crown in Fabrizio's lap. “You have won my friendship” he said.

Fabrizio lifted his eyes to meet Ermal's, fighting to keep his poker face in position, before losing and allowing a smile to break out.

“That explains why we both have crowns,” he replied. “You have won my friendship too.”

Ermal smiled back, his eyes crinkling with happiness. Fabrizio felt his cheeks heat up and that was the sun, definitely the sun, wasn't it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you liked it, please leave a kudos or comment to make a writer smile :)


	12. Chapter 12

The summer continued, the warm days turning to oppressive heat. Fans began to sell steadily at the market. The farmhands, unable to spare an arm to carry them, had to use their hats or suffer. The houses kept their windows open all night, although it offered little relief if the air was still. The advantage of the season, however, was the bright nights. The sun shone well past 9pm and the temperature cooled to a pleasant level that was ideal for working. Fabrizio knew that he was one of the lucky ones, able to hide in the scorching afternoon and emerge in the evenings.

The other advantage, although whether it was truly an advantage depended on a person's viewpoint, was that orders decreased in summer. No-one wanted fur, fewer people wanted heavy meat. The farmers were making a fortune selling their fruit and vegetables, but a little game for the butcher and his own food was all the hunting that was required of Fabrizio. In previous years, he'd had to go into the fields to make ends meet, but that wasn't necessary now because of Ermal's shields. And so he found himself facing a season in which he had less need to work, but a greater number of hours in which he could. It was a golden opportunity.

He spent a lot of time in the forest, setting up traps and checking old ones. Generally he avoided the octagonal house so Ermal wouldn’t be aware of what he was doing, not only to protect his feelings, but because Fabrizio didn’t trust him not to sabotage the traps. As a result, he saw less of the curly-haired man despite spending even more time in the wilderness. It was too much of a risk to talk about his hunting as Ermal became very irritable and withdrawn when he did, and Fabrizio didn’t want to risk their friendship when it had just been made official. As wonderful as that was, however, there was only so much Ermal could do because the hunt for the wolf was frankly becoming ridiculous.

He must have tracked it through every inch of the forest, and baited every tree along the way, but still nothing. His traps were securing plenty of other animals. Rabbits and foxes were frequent discoveries, which looked well on both his kitchen table and his market stall, but hunting was starting to lose its taste. He still enjoyed what he did and had no plans to stop, but it was a lot less fun than it used to be. Nowadays he would check on a trap and feel only disappointment rather than delight. Yes, he had a catch, but it wasn't the one he wanted. It was such a stupid way to think considering these catches were his bread and butter, and the wolf was nothing except a personal desire, but it was how he felt. And perhaps the worst part, potentially even the reason why he felt so low, was that he had no-one to talk to about it. It had always helped to vent his frustration to Ermal, who would distract him and boost his mood, but now he couldn't do that and so the wolf was circling his mind constantly and becoming a real source of stress. What more could he do?

That question was circling his head even now, as he approached his favourite place in the world. Would it be worth leaving the hunt until winter when she wouldn't be able to avoid leaving tracks? What about leaving traps in the caves? But those caves were so far into the mountains and mothers used them to raise their cubs. He was squeamish about potentially killing a baby animal. Night hunting was a necessity if he was going to continue through summer and winter. He could leave the daylight hours for his actual orders and, a couple of times a week, go out at night for...

“Fabrizio!”

He was wrapped in a hug and the rest of the world instantly ceased to matter.

“I hoped you'd come over this week. I want to show you something.”

Ermal had been quite excited for the past number of visits, but he hadn't given any explanation and Fabrizio had been too distracted to ask. Now he was intrigued.

“Have you been working on something?”

Ermal nodded. “Not to sell, just for us.”

Fabrizio's mind raced, wondering what on earth that could be, but there was no need to wait as Ermal took his hand and dragged him down to the lake. A long thin boat was resting on the shore. Without the distinctive black paint, Fabrizio took a second to recognise the shape.

“You made a gondola?”

“It's completely seaworthy,” Ermal promised. “Do you want to go out in it?”

“Absolutely! Can we?”

“Yes.”

Fabrizio sat in the boat while Ermal pushed it out to the water, leaping onto the back just before he got out of his depth. He picked up the long oar resting along the length of the boat and stood up on the stern. “Lie down and relax, signor,” he ordered in an exaggerated accent. “I will give you a tour of the lake. If you look to your right, you will see a lot of trees.”

Fabrizio grinned and lay back as instructed, his head propped up next to Ermal’s feet so he could see over the sides. “Indeed, many trees” he agreed.

“Right now these trees are at their nicest with their bright green leaves. In autumn they turn brown and in winter they’re white,” Ermal said, and pointed towards the far end of the water. “If you look further ahead, you can see the caves where people used to mine for gold until they took it all away. These caves are very good shelter in the winter, which is especially helpful because the lake freezes so it’s the only time you can get there without a boat.”

“That is very good information. Thank you, gondolier.”

“I’m not finished. Up ahead is a small waterfall. It’s too dangerous to take a boat over, but you can certainly swim down it if you’re adventurous.”

“Perhaps we should try that” Fabrizio suggested, craning his neck up at his guide, seeing a warm smile being directed back at him. “Perhaps,” Ermal said. “Oh look, up and to the right, can you see the flower meadow?”

Fabrizio lifted his hand and shielded his eyes. “Yes. Well, I can’t see the meadow, but I can see the rocks around it.”

“That’s our special place.”

He huffed with laughter. “I had to throw my crown away. It wilted.”

“That’s what flowers do” Ermal remarked.

“That’s why they’re useless.”

“They’re pretty.”

Fabrizio shook his head. “I tend to prefer gifts that are practical or meaningful, not something that will die in a matter of days.”

“That’s the joy of receiving flowers,” Ermal insisted. “They’re not given for any reason except because you care. Which feels nicer, being given a tool or being given something whose only purpose is to remind you of how much you mean to someone?”

Fabrizio was quiet for a moment, contemplating. “Being given a tool,” he declared. “Feelings are nice, but they don’t last.”

He heard a sigh and then the boat rocked as Ermal stepped down from his perch, abandoning the tour to sit down beside him. “You’re so tough, Fabrizio” he said.

“I have to be. People will take advantage of you if you’re not.”

“That’s true, but I wouldn’t.”

Fabrizio smiled at him and then put his arm around him. Ermal leaned in him, putting his head on his shoulder. “I know,” Fabrizio said. “That’s why I can make silly flower crowns and go on mock tours in a gondola without fear of ridicule.”

Ermal inclined his head to look at him, without actually lifting it away from Fabrizio’s chest. “Is it only ridicule you’re afraid of?”

Fabrizio squinted at the brilliant blue and green colours of his surroundings. He thought about the names, the slight grimaces, the preacher from his childhood promising hellfire for him, the fear of the truth coming out so that those few he cared about would turn away from him, that he would no longer have a livelihood to support himself with.

“Yes” he said.

Ermal sighed quietly and slipped away to lie on his back. Fabrizio did the same and they both gazed up at the sky, watching a few wispy white clouds drift overhead. After a few seconds, Fabrizio felt something touch his hand and inclined his head to see Ermal’s little finger wrapped around his. He left it there for a second and then moved his hand across the wood towards him. Ermal’s hand covered it and Fabrizio turned it over so their palms were facing. A few seconds after that, their fingers interlocked and the dance was complete.

“Sometimes I wonder if I should just…leave it all and try to live out here” Fabrizio admitted.

“You wouldn’t like it. It’s hard” Ermal said quietly.

“It can be hard living down there too.”

“Yes, but you have everything you need. You never have to worry about being cold or hungry.”

Fabrizio looked at him and, without thinking, leaned over and kissed his cheek. Ermal’s only response was to turn his head to face him, looking neither pleased nor angry. “That was nice” he said calmly.

“You’re nice,” Fabrizio disentangled their hands to stroke his hair. “Do you know, this is the only place where I don’t have to watch what I say or do?”

Ermal turned his whole body over, resting his face on his hand. “So are you saying this is the real you?”

“I don’t know,” Fabrizio shrugged, lifting one hand and dropping it. “I think it’s the person I’d like to be.”

“I think you should be that person,” Ermal said. “I like that person.”

Fabrizio felt his face warming again and swiftly looked at the sky. “There's going to be a full moon tomorrow night” he blurted out.

“Is that interesting?”

He shook his head. “I was just thinking it would be an excellent opportunity to try some night time hunting. Would you be interested in joining me? It would be nice to have company, not to mention your great vision.”

“I thought the point of a full moon was that you didn't need to see in the dark.”

“Every small bit helps.”

“And what are you hunting for?”

Too late, Fabrizio remembered his vow not to mention this in front of Ermal. He urged himself not to look at the other man, knowing it would be more far more difficult to speak freely if he did, but his head was pulled sideways regardless and those dark eyes locked his gaze in place. “The wolf,” he confessed. “I haven't seen her for weeks. I really think I have to go into her territory if I have any chance of finding her, and that means being nocturnal as well.”

Ermal’s face screwed up with confusion and distaste. “Why do you think it's a girl?” he asked.

“I don't know,” Fabrizio said. “I've started calling her Gigi in my head, after an old dog I used to have, so maybe that's why.”

“I don't know if it's a good idea to name something you're going to kill.”

“You're probably right, but then again, I'm going to keep her forever so maybe it's appropriate.”

Ermal sighed deeply, a guttural sound coming from his throat, and flipped onto his back. “You sound really creepy, you know.”

“I've been hunting her for so long that I almost feel like I know her,” Fabrizio mused. “She's almost a friend. Oh God, listen to me. I'm on my way to being as crazy as Martelli.”

“I'm sure she'd say the same about you” Ermal remarked, and Fabrizio couldn’t deny that he was pleased to hear the gentle teasing in the other man’s voice, although he quickly covered that up. “Don't patronise me,” he retorted. “So what do you say?”

“About joining you for a night time hunt? I'll pass.”

“We could have a picnic under the stars” Fabrizio offered. Ermal turned towards him, smiling, and rolled onto his stomach so that he was looking down at him. “That's a lovely idea that doesn't sound at all like bribery,” he said. “How about instead, I come to you and we can have our picnic in some quiet field near the village?”

“But the wolf?” Fabrizio protested weakly, although it was a little difficult to argue when Ermal’s finger was stroking his chin.

“Do you want to spend time with me or hunt her? You can't have both.”

“That's not fair...”

“Those are your choices,” Ermal cut him off. “Let me know what you've decided before you leave.”

He got to his feet, climbed onto the stern and picked up the oar again. The boat began to turn back to shore and Fabrizio silently cursed himself for ruining the moment again.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The best laid plans...

Fabrizio typically didn't eat much, not because he made a deliberate effort, but simply because over time his body had become accustomed to functioning on small meals. Tonight he was breaking bread in spectacular fashion. In honour of Ermal’s love for meat, he had bought beef, pork and chicken from the butcher, trying to accommodate all possible tastes. He’d also bought some bread, goat’s cheese, a punnet of strawberries and some tomatoes which he’d made into stew. The baker had provided two slices of cake, one cheesecake and the other red velvet, and the only thing left to complete the picnic was a bottle of white wine.

Unfortunately the best wine could only be procured at Guido’s vineyard, and he hated visiting that place. The wife, Anna, was a ghost who stood behind a table and only spoke to ask customers if she could help them. Her daughter had been one of the cousins killed in the wolf attacks. Fabrizio sometimes saw her at the market with her sister, who seemed to have coped much better with the loss, but that seemed to be the most activity she was capable of.

As feared, her husband Guido was in the house, which meant that it would be no fast transaction. He had gone in a completely different direction from his wife, becoming loud and uncomfortably jovial to everyone who crossed his path. He took great pride in his vineyard, the same kind of pride that Mr Martelli took in his chickens, a fervent love for his livelihood that stood on the border of crazy. Maybe everyone around here was mad in their own way.

Sure enough, a simple request for any kind of white wine, just something to accompany a meal, turned into a full tasting session. Fabrizio chose a dry wine that brought to mind summer picnics and sharp berries, which was exactly what he had planned. Anna started to wrap it up.

“Running this place gets harder every year,” Guido remarked. No-one had asked, but this was apparently something he wanted to share. “I'd get an assistant in if I could find one who was willing.”

“That would disrespect Maria's memory” Anna said mildly. Guido shifted, not quite agreeing, but unwilling to argue. “Not to mention that no-one wants to work without shade in this heat” he said, and gave a guffaw that made Fabrizio wince.

“I could help out,” he volunteered. “In exchange for the wine, I'll give you an afternoon.”

He felt strangely guilty, standing with them and knowing that he wanted to find the animal that killed their daughter and preserve it. He could imagine Anna's pale face and doe eyes staring at him in betrayal if she knew, and it was an uncomfortable feeling.

Two pairs of eyes stared at him now, both stunned, one very quickly brightening with delight. “Would you? How very kind.”

Guido hugged him and Fabrizio stiffened, waiting for it to be over.

“We’ll pay for your time, of course,” the other man declared. “Feel free to bring a friend if you have one. It might make the job easier.”

Fabrizio was already regretting his spontaneous offer, but there was no getting out of it. Going back and disappointing those people would be too much for him to handle. There might be a way to make the job a little more bearable though. He’d put the idea to Ermal tonight.

He waited to hear the church bells chime, and then left it for another twenty minutes to be certain that everyone was out of the fields before setting off. The meeting point was a grassy mound at the edge of the village, under the shadow of a tree with a view of the nearby fields. Fabrizio was the first to arrive. He laid out the blanket and arranged the food, occasionally looking around for any sign of a curly head. He must be close by. It was already dark and getting more so by the minute, too dangerous to walk through the trees alone, even if there was a full moon to guide the way.

The food was ready to be served, complete with plates and forks for an extra touch of class that Fabrizio had never before cared about. Ermal would be just as happy eating with fingers, he knew that, so it was really a pointless exercise in pretension and yet...He wanted to do more for him. It reminded him of Ermal’s words about the flowers, how they were a gesture meant only to make another person smile and feel cared for. Maybe he could understand the other man’s point a little better now.

He rested his back against the tree, and then sat up again. He could see nothing from that position and he didn't like having so much empty space at his back. Where was Ermal? He stood, walked around the tree, sat back down. Maybe he didn't know where to find the spot. Fabrizio walked to the edge of the mound, peered left and right up the path, sat back down and nibbled on a piece of bread.

This was Ermal's idea, he comforted himself. People might back out of others' plans without warning, but never their own. He would come.

The sky grew darker and darker, turning from charcoal grey to black. It was impossible even to distinguish the clouds until the brilliant full moon peeked out from behind them, so luminous that Fabrizio's night-adjusted eyes squinted at the first sight of it. It truly was stunning. He stared at it, entranced, feeling as if he was sitting inside one of his Gothic novels. A chilly breeze only added to the illusion. All that was required now was for a large, slavering wolf to creep up on the misfortunate soul sitting alone outside. Wouldn't that be nice, he thought bitterly, discarding another shredded blade of grass?

He sighed deeply. In truth, he would be happier to see Ermal crossing the fields than the wolf, but that wasn't going to happen. The chimes from the church tower, signalling 10pm, provided the death knell for his hopes. All the money he'd spent on food that he'd barely touched, wasted. All the hours he'd spent letting his ass get numb instead of taking advantage of that celestial torch to look for his wolf, wasted. A whole month wasted because he'd given up his best hunting night for a man who had invited him here and couldn't be bothered to show up. He wondered if Ermal could have been cruel enough to plan this solely so that he would lose his best night. Surely he wouldn't have taken advantage of Fabrizio's fondness for him to trick him. That would be beyond the pale. He would go up to the octagonal house and demand answers immediately if it wasn't already so late, but tomorrow would be time enough. He wouldn't fall for those big eyes again, he swore angrily, pulling the blanket and everything on it into one untidy bundle to carry home. And if his eyes were stinging, then it was only the cold and wind to blame.

**

The following day was another market day, preventing Fabrizio from storming up for his answers at first light. He wondered if Ermal would be bold enough to show his face here, but even if he wasn't, there was no way he was going to escape. Only death or dismemberment would be accepted as valid reasons for his abandonment. Fabrizio set up the stall like a hurricane, and if customers thought better of approaching at this time, he didn't notice. He didn't notice the one person who did venture towards the stall either.

“Good morning.”

He spun towards the familiar voice, incredulous at how Ermal had the gall to stand right in front of him, playing nervously with the strap of his bag and smiling hopefully.

“Oh, it's you. What do you want?”

“I'm sorry I missed last night.”

Fabrizio ignored him. “Was the food nice?” Ermal persisted.

“The food needed to be eaten last night and there was no-one to eat it so I couldn't tell you.” Fabrizio rubbed his eye with the back of his hand and turned to hang up more pelts.

“I was sick last night. I couldn't get out of bed. I'm really sorry, Fabrizio. Be my friend, please.”

Ermal was tugging his arm and he'd sworn to stay angry, not to give in to a few sweet words and a pair of dark eyes again, but that was before the eyes were right next to him.

“What illness?” he demanded.

“I found some game that a predator left and I guess it had been there for a long time. I felt like I was going to die.”

“Why on earth would you do that? Were you so hungry that you couldn’t wait?”

Ermal looked down guiltily and Fabrizio sighed, shaking his head. “Are you feeling better now?”

“Yes. We can go out looking for the wolf tonight, if you want.”

“Thanks for the offer, but the full moon was a requirement to make it work. I was really looking forward to that picnic. I know it's not your fault, I just...I was. Maybe we can do it next month?”

“Yes, maybe. Or why wait? We can have a picnic under the stars on any night. What about Wednesday?”

Fabrizio thought about it. “Wednesday is very far away.”

“Tomorrow?”

He shook his head. “Still very far away.”

Ermal paused. “Tonight?”

“That may be the safest option,” he replied solemnly. “The flower meadow?”

Ermal smiled slowly. “I'll be there. And I brought you this too.” He handed him a canteen. “I was going to bring it to the picnic.”

Fabrizio unscrewed the top and sniffed. It smelled like hot chocolate and when he took a sip, that was exactly what it was. He nodded to indicate his approval and set the flask aside. “You can make it up to me in another way.”

“Oh? How is that?”

“I volunteered to help some people on the vineyard.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, stupidity?” He shrugged and drew circles in the dust. “They’re such tragic figures and they’re getting old with no-one to help them. It just came out.”

Ermal’s grin did nothing to make him feel better. “A knight in shining armour,” he remarked. “If you see someone in need, you can’t help yourself.”

“Shush, I have a reputation to uphold.”

Ermal laughed. “When are you going to the vineyard?”

“Any day. They’re picking grapes daily. How about tomorrow? I can stay with you after the picnic and we can go out in the morning.”

“Or I could stay with you and be closer to the vineyards.”

“But your house is closer to the flower meadow,” Fabrizio pointed out. “Why would we walk back through the forest at night?”

“I can’t argue with that logic, I guess. Although…” Ermal trailed off meaningfully. “If it’s not safe for me to walk through the forest at night, it’s not safe for you either. You’ll have to stay with me for the day.”

“That goes without saying. I have to make sure you turn up this time.”

“I wouldn’t miss it twice. You might not give me another chance.”

“You’re right,” Fabrizio nodded, pleased that his position was understood. “I’ll have to organise the food before I come up then. That will give you some time to decide how we’re going to fill the empty hours.”

“I might have an idea.”

“Excuse me?”

They both shot upright, springing apart. Fabrizio hadn’t even noticed that they’d been leaning towards each other over the table, like two people flirting in a bar. Good God, that was so inappropriate for the time and place! He hoped Mrs Sansone didn’t notice how startled he was.

“Yes, what can I do for you?” he asked, trying to sound professional. His voice came out breathless which only worsened the panicked skipping of his heart.

“Some deerskin please” she requested.

“Absolutely. Would you like the deerskin as it is or would you like to order something, a jacket perhaps?” 

“As it is will be fine, and while I’m here, my nephew wants a new chess set…”

And so the business of running a stall and making money took over, both of them too busy with sales to speak much to one another, and only tiny smiles and light touches indicated that it was anything other than a normal day.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The difference one night can make.

“You'll never catch me!” Ermal yelled, pulling his shirt off without breaking stride and careening into the water. He still had his trousers and shoes on. Fabrizio halted at the edge of the lake, disrobing more carefully, shaking his head in amusement at the half-dressed man bobbing around in front of him.

“I'm not trying to. Not everything is a contest.”

“You could have fooled me.” Ermal ducked under the water and came back up, hair plastered to his head, spitting a neat arch of water from his mouth. Fabrizio finished undressing and made his way carefully towards the water, wincing as his bare feet touched stone.

“Put your shoes on,” Ermal advised. “There are rocks everywhere.”

“I can't swim in leather boots. They'll be destroyed and I’ll drown.”

Ermal immediately swam towards him and came back onto land, sitting down to remove his shoes. “Take mine then. My feet are like leather so I'll be fine. Yours are like pillows. You need protection.”

Fabrizio felt mildly offended, although Ermal was correct. The other man walked around in bare feet frequently. His strong leather boots had split at the toe so that one was now a makeshift sandal, and his main footwear had become a pair of fox fur slippers. Between that and bare feet, there was little difference. Fabrizio stuck his feet into the slippers and once more waded into the lake, Ermal close behind. Once his feet lost contact with the lake bed, he struck out for deeper water and put his head under.

“I've never seen your hair so flat” Ermal remarked when he emerged.

“Same to you.” 

Ermal's hair had turned into straggly black spaghetti, and when it was hanging straight down like that, it was clear to see how long it really was. “You look like a wet dog” Fabrizio added, to uproarious laughter.

“You look like you're wearing a fur hat” Ermal retorted, and splashed him.

“You'll pay for that.”

“I hope so.”

He took off across the lake. Fabrizio followed at a leisurely crawl, watching Ermal steam far ahead before looking back and realising that he wasn't being chased. He stopped swimming and floated, waiting for Fabrizio to catch up. They proceeded to the waterfall together and climbed onto a flat rock next to it, looking down.

“It's taller than I thought it'd be” Fabrizio said.

“I've gone over lots of times. The water is really deep. You could jump from here if you wanted.”

“I'll pass.”

Ermal stood up, moved to the back of the rock, and then ran past Fabrizio and flung himself into the ether. His cry of delight echoed through the trees before cutting off abruptly. Fabrizio scrambled to look over the edge, watching the dark blue water below, until something white emerged and waved up at him.

“Hello!” Ermal called.

Fabrizio smiled and waved back. Despite the demonstration, he still didn't feel confident enough to throw himself off a rock, so he slipped back into the water and allowed the gentle current to sweep him over the edge.

If someone had told him that going over a waterfall could be fun, he wouldn't have believed them, but he was surprised. The waterfall included several shallow dips that lifted his stomach as he passed over them, filling him with exhilaration, and the current ensured a smooth ride. It deposited him face first into a small area of churning white water and he involuntarily performed a somersault, the first of his life, before emerging into the air.

“That was brilliant,” he declared immediately. “I have to do that again. How do I get back up?”

“You have to climb the rocks.”

Fabrizio squinted at the rock face above him. “Maybe in a few minutes” he said. He swam towards the bank and climbed onto a flat, overhanging rock.

“You don't like the water?” Ermal asked.

“It's too deep. I can't paddle for long or I'll go under.”

“Okay.” He swam over to Fabrizio and climbed onto the rock beside him.

“You can keep swimming.”

“Maybe in a few minutes.”

Ermal stretched out on his back, his lower legs dangling off the edge of the rock, wet hair pressed against Fabrizio's leg. “Now I will sizzle like a sausage,” he declared. “That's what my mother used to say when I lay in the sun.”

Fabrizio chuckled and cupped the other man's chin in his palm. Ermal briefly opened his eyes to smile at him, closing them again as Fabrizio's thumb rubbed over his cheek.

“Are you having fun?” he asked.

“I am.”

“Me too.”

“What a life this must be,” Fabrizio remarked. “Swimming in rivers, making flower crowns all day…”

“Well, I put on a full range of entertainment when you visit me. You don’t see the other side” Ermal replied.

“I’d like to see the other side. It must be so hard doing everything on your own. If you needed help…”

“I would ask,” he interrupted. “I know you’d help if I needed it, but I don’t want you to visit to do things for me. I like spending time with you, really spending time with you, having fun. This is what makes all the chores worthwhile. What’s the point of struggling to survive if you don’t enjoy being alive?”

Fabrizio paused, considering, absentmindedly moving his hand to Ermal’s hair and gently pulling at the curls. “I think you’re the first person I’ve ever met with that attitude” he remarked.

“That’s sad. My mother taught me that and I think she was right. I miss her. I’m glad you’re here.”

“I’m glad you’re here too,” Fabrizio looked down at him, feeling a smile tug at his lips. “I never really noticed how alone I am until I met you.”

“Are you alone?” Ermal sat up, leaving Fabrizio feeling irrationally bereft at the loss of contact. “You have friends.”

“Sure I do, but they’re all childhood friendships. They’re based on past experiences. We never really spend time together anymore. Life is too busy.”

“Oh.” Ermal shifted closer and took his hand. “I’m sorry to hear that. I don’t mean to use up all your free time.”

“You don’t,” Fabrizio said quickly. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather spend my time.”

“Really?”

He hadn’t left himself much room to manoeuvre, Fabrizio thought nervously, not that there was much point. He’d started so he’d finish. “Yes. You’re very special to me, you know.”

Ermal’s answering smile was like the sun, bathing him in light and warmth.

“I hope you like the spread,” Fabrizio added, simply for something to say, to stop him staring for too long. “I've got cheese, ham, fresh bread, water, and I made cannoli for dessert.”

“It sounds lovely,” Ermal agreed. “Do you want to help me pick some raspberries? A picnic isn’t a picnic without some fruit.”

“Lead the way.” Fabrizio lifted his hand demonstratively, and only then noticed that Ermal was still holding it securely.

**

The second picnic was a simpler affair than the first, but maybe that was more suitable. Ermal led the way into the meadow, setting Fabrizio’s own wicker basket on the ground, filled to the brim with glistening raspberries. He lay on his back, smiling up at Fabrizio, as he lowered the knapsack of food onto the ground and started to unpack the supplies.

“Do you see the stars?” Ermal asked, pointing upwards.

“They're beautiful” Fabrizio agreed.

“Do you want to know a secret? Somewhere up there is a star called Ermal.”

“Really?”

“Yes, my mother gave it to me. I made her a charm for her bracelet and she gave me a star.”

Fabrizio moved to his other side and lay down. “Which one is it?”

“That one.” Ermal pointed and Fabrizio shifted over to follow his finger.

“Where?”

“The brightest one, do you see it? Over the trees.”

“Oh yes. The brightest star in the sky, how appropriate. Will we eat?”

“Yes,” Ermal sat up and picked up one of the berries. “Watch this.” He tossed it into the air and waited with his mouth hanging open. Fabrizio looked up, waiting for the berry to fall, but it had disappeared into the darkness.

“Where is it?” he asked finally.

“I don’t know,” Ermal closed his mouth and checked the ground around him. “Let me try again.”

Another raspberry was flung skywards and, a second later, Ermal recoiled and touched his nose. “Ow, it hit me.”

Fabrizio burst out laughing. “Leave me alone, it’s dark” Ermal muttered, sounding so adorably offended. Fabrizio ruffled his hair affectionately and was petulantly pushed away. In the next second, something small struck his cheek and he flinched in surprise.

“Did you throw that at me?”

A cheeky grin was his response and he clicked his tongue. “Do it again.”

Ermal lifted another raspberry and Fabrizio leaned back, opening his mouth. He saw the small dark shape begin its trajectory and leaned slightly to the right to catch it.

“Winner!” he declared, his voice muffled by the fruit, and toppled sideways as he lifted his arms in victory. Ermal giggled with delight. “I should have made a flower crown for your prize. It’s too dark now,” he said. “I’ll have to think of something else…Ah, I’ve got it.”

He shifted closer so that his legs were almost touching Fabrizio’s. “Close your eyes.”

“Why?” Fabrizio asked, obeying. Anticipation brought a smile to his face and an almost painful feeling to his stomach. “What are you planning? Are you planning to trick me?”

There was no response. He frowned, listening for any sound of movement. “Ermal?” He opened his eyes and saw an empty meadow in front of him. “Ermal?”

He frowned and looked around, seeing nothing. “Ermal, where are you?” He stood and took a few steps in a random direction. “This isn't funny. Answer me.”

There was a rustle from the undergrowth and he spun around in time to see a shadow charging at him. There was no time to react. The animal struck him, albeit with significantly less force than he would have expected, knocking him onto his back and pinning him on the grass. It took a second to realise that his attacker's weight didn't hurt, and moreover that its paws were warm and soft and gripped him with very human digits. He focused and its face arranged itself into a familiar grin, full of delight and pride that he'd managed to surprise the hunter.

“You're caught” Ermal said.

“So I am,” Fabrizio agreed easily, relaxing and smiling up at him. “Is this what you call a prize?”

Ermal paused. “No, this is” he replied quietly.

Fabrizio watched his vision darken and then felt soft lips press against his. He had never been kissed like this in his life. It was neither the tentative peck of new lovers or the brief kiss of familiars, or even the strength of a passionate clinch. This was gentle and slow, a caress that almost caused him to lose the ability to think of anything except Ermal's name, but he was fortunately grounded in time by a few stray curls that fell over his face and tickled him. He couldn't stop himself from giggling and Ermal pulled away.

“Stop laughing. I'm trying to eat you” he complained.

“Of course,” Fabrizio turned his head to the side so he could get some kisses on his neck. “Mercy, please.”

“No mercy” Ermal replied. He leaned down and began gently sucking on the skin, not hard enough to leave marks, but hard enough to draw moans of delight from his victim. When Fabrizio couldn't stand it anymore, he turned and flipped them so Ermal was the one under him.

“Oh dear” the new victim murmured.

“You started a war. If you attack me, I have the right to retaliate. It's only fair.”

“Please don't kill me.”

“I don't kill. I torture.”

Fabrizio started tickling his sides and Ermal squealed, trying to protect himself, but only managing to pin Fabrizio's hands in the ideal position to continue tickling.

“Stop! Bizio! No!” His protests were undone by his uncontrollable laughter.

“What did you call me?”

“Bizio!”

“Say that again.”

“Bizio! Bizio! Bizio! Stop it, please!”

Fabrizio stilled his hands and waited for Ermal to relax and stop laughing, and then took his hands and lifted him to sit in front of him. He was still giggling, his eyes crinkled with happiness and his smile wide and bright. Fabrizio felt his heart thump harder at the sight of him.

“You're beautiful.”

“Thank you,” Ermal smiled. “So are you.”

“No...”

“Yes. You're a good man.” He leaned in and Fabrizio tasted his lips again, the delicious contrast between his warm mouth and the cold air. His hand automatically moved into his hair, tangling in the curls, pulling him closer. Ermal moved away, leaving him wanting more.

“Does this mean you're going to keep me as a trophy like you do to all the other beautiful things?” he asked.

Fabrizio smiled dazedly. “Maybe.”

“I can be your trophy,” Ermal said. He hugged Fabrizio and rested his head on his shoulder. “I can be whatever you want, on one condition. Stop looking for the wolf.”

The spell was broken in an instant. “You know I can't do that” Fabrizio said, his tone disallowing any argument. Ermal recoiled from him. “Why not?” he demanded.

“You know why not. I've explained it again and again.”

“But...But you care about me, right? I'm only asking for one thing. You do care about me, don't you?” Ermal suddenly looked nervous, almost afraid. “Do you care about the wolf more?”

Fabrizio held his face between his hands. “Ask me for anything else. You can have it, anything in the world, but don't ask me for this.”

Ermal shook his head vehemently and tried to move away. “Why do you care so much?” Fabrizio asked. “Why the wolf in particular?”

The other man shrugged. “Like you said, there's only one of them.”

“But I've explained...”

“I know.” Ermal cut him off, his voice thick with either anger or upset.

“Ermal...” He took the risk of moving closer, carefully putting a hand on his shoulder. It wasn’t rejected. “You can't replace her. You're another kind of joy entirely, but you don't replace that wolf. I can want two things.”

Ermal turned to look at him. “What if by getting one, you lose the other? What would you choose?”

“I don't know what you mean.”

A loud roll of thunder made them both look up. Ermal had time to give a low moan of distress before the sky opened. He yelped and ran for the trees, covering his head with his hands.

“Come on!” Fabrizio opened one half of his coat and put it over Ermal's head, pulling the back over his own head. “We have to get back to the house.”

It was a miserable race back to the octagonal house, barely able to see through the dark and the coat, slipping a couple of times and always having to adjust his pace for the person whose arms were wrapped around him as they ran. When they made it back, Ermal grabbed an old thin towel and handed it over to Fabrizio before disappearing up the stone steps. He gave his hair a few half-hearted scrubs and then followed the other man to the second floor.

Ermal was sitting at the window, watching the rain cascade down the wall. It was the kind of scene that made Fabrizio want to grab his sketchbook and capture it.

“What did you mean before, about losing one if I get the other?” he asked. “Are you threatening to leave me if I don't stop hunting?”

Ermal looked over his shoulder. “Not hunting altogether, just the wolf.”

“You're as obsessed as I am,” Fabrizio scoffed. “If you think I'm the sort of man who responds to blackmail, prepare to be disappointed.”

“If you don't leave that wolf alone, you'll never see me again. I mean it. Decide what you value more.”

Part of him was furious at the ultimatum and wanted to tell Ermal that he should go then, if that was what he wanted. Another larger part was very scared. If Ermal wasn't bluffing, the risk was too great. He had an awful feeling that he was standing on the edge of a precipice, still able to step back if he wanted to, but so close to falling. The wise thing to do would be to turn away from the cliff edge and spare himself the inevitable agony, but against all reason, he didn’t want to. He wanted to see where this raw potential might lead.

At the same time, that wolf was still of great importance to him and frankly there was nothing wrong with caring about two things at once. How dare Ermal try to make him feel that there was? He didn't have to stop. He just didn't have to tell Ermal. It would make life easier for both of them if he didn't. He walked over and wrapped his arms around Ermal, putting a kiss in his hair and preparing to tell the one piece of truth in a pack of lies.

“I do care about you,” he said. “If this is the only problem you have, I'm willing to compromise.”

Ermal perked up hopefully and Fabrizio felt guilty for the deception, but not quite guilty enough. “So...” Ermal said, trailing off expectantly.

“If it means so much to you, I'll stop hunting the wolf.”

He felt Ermal relax immediately and kissed his temple. “I wish you'd tell me why it matters so much to you.”

Ermal immediately shrugged him off and turned away. “I already have explained, again and again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoyed, please leave a kudos or a comment <3


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fabrizio puts his half-baked plan into action. Let's hope Guido didn't need all of those grapes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do hope people are still enjoying this story. If you are, please leave a kudos or comment.

The pallet wasn’t big enough for two people, but that didn’t bother them. Being pressed so close together was only an advantage under the circumstances. Fabrizio couldn’t remember falling asleep, but he must have done because it seemed to be morning all too suddenly. Ermal’s breath was hot against his neck and Fabrizio’s arm was stiff from the other man sleeping on it, and he wondered if this was how it felt to be happy.

Guido was in the vineyard when they arrived and came running up to the fence upon spying their approach. “Two of you? Wonderful,” He clapped his hands. “We will have these grapes picked in no time. Do you mind if I leave you to it? I’ve been working all morning and I’m almost cooked.”

“That’s absolutely fine” Fabrizio said. 

“I’ll be in the wine cellar if you need me.”

Fabrizio looked over his shoulder to watch Guido leave, waiting until he was halfway across the vineyard before turning to Ermal. “Let’s get picking.”

He wandered along the row, trug in hand, occasionally grabbing any particularly juicy fruit for himself. “I don’t think you’re supposed to eat them” Ermal said, following one step behind. 

“It’s only a few. I doubt anyone will miss them. Do you want one?”

He offered the grape between his finger and thumb. Instead of taking it, Ermal gently lifted it away in his teeth, grazing Fabrizio’s fingers as he did so. He stroked Ermal’s cheek and under his chin in response.

The first few rows were done silently, intently picking grapes off the vines. By the end of the third, Fabrizio’s mouth was tangy with the taste of fruit. His hands were scratched and aching from the constant plucking, and he was sweating all over. The heat was more intense out here than he’d bargained for.

They met at the end of the fourth row and Fabrizio looked at his companion, sweat running down the side of his face, and put the trug down.

“It’s hot work."

He pulled his shirt over his head and dropped it next to the vines, turning to see Ermal watching him. There was a beat before the other man undid his buttons and lifted the shirt from his shoulders, maintaining eye contact. His defiant expression made Fabrizio’s skin prickle. It felt like playing truth or dare.

“Have we done enough?” Ermal asked, gesturing to the trug. Fabrizio declined to look down. Why would he when Ermal was inches away, his skin turning brown in the sun, providing such a diverting contrast?

“Not even close.”

Ermal walked into another row, Fabrizio went to its neighbour. As he walked, he pulled his belt free from its loops and let it fall behind him. They met again at the end of their respective rows.

“Hot.”

“Yes,” Ermal agreed. He lifted his hat and ran a hand through his hair, fruitlessly trying to revitalise the curls, before replacing it and squinting at Fabrizio. “Too hot for leather.”

Two pairs of trousers were discarded, leaving only two pairs of white undergarments for modesty. They went back to picking the grapes, moving up and down the rows like courtly dancers, outwardly focused on their steps while only conscious of each other. Every time they met, their fingers or mouths would brush against some part of the other. Fabrizio was starting to shiver all over. He was desperate to get at Ermal, but every time, he’d turn away before things could progress beyond a touch. The trugs were full and heavy, but he was barely aware of them.

“Fabrizio, I need help with this one.”

He followed his summons into an adjacent row and found Ermal standing in front of some vines, gazing up at the topmost grapes. It did not escape Fabrizio’s notice that they were the same height and what he could reach, Ermal certainly could.

“Allow me” he said gallantly. As he leaned over to grab a bunch, he took the opportunity to lightly nibble Ermal’s ear. The other man’s whole body seemed to stiffen before he turned around.

“What…?” he asked, looking and sounding stupefied. Fabrizio kissed him briefly, hard on the mouth, and placed the fruit in his trug.

“Come on, there are more grapes to pick.”

He didn’t dare to look back as he left the row, pretty sure that Ermal’s expression would either make him laugh or give up the whole charade at once. He industriously completed two more rows before arriving at the end to find Ermal, sitting on the dusty ground and fanning himself with his hat. By the look of his trug, he had done no work since the last time they saw each other.

“Hot” he declared. Fabrizio sat beside him and offered his flask. “Water?”

The water was warm by now, but they both drank greedily. “Are we done?” Ermal asked. His breath came in short, hot bursts. Fabrizio’s gaze drifted over the field. “We’ve done well,” he said. “There is still plenty more to do…”

“No, no more.”

Fabrizio looked at the gasping man beside him, who was staring back at him wildly. “You have to know,” Ermal said urgently. “I don’t know what else I can do.”

“Are we still talking about grapes?”

“Of course not! For God’s sake, Fa…”

He cut him off with a kiss, as he’d wanted to since the moment they started work. Ermal immediately pushed back and Fabrizio found himself on his back, the other man’s weight holding him down.

“You taste like grapes” Ermal said softly.

“I’m lying in the dirt” Fabrizio remarked.

“You are.”

“We’re going to be in so much trouble if they find us here.”

Ermal shrugged. “We don’t work for them.”

“No, but can you imagine the rumour mill if it gets out that I planned this…” He trailed off, realising too late what he’d said. By the grin on Ermal’s face, he hadn’t got away with it. He adjusted his weight on Fabrizio, not in a way that hurt, simply as a reminder of his position.

“Oh, you planned this?” he asked casually. “Why, if you were afraid of getting in trouble?”

Fabrizio smiled. “Because this is worth it.”

“Cruel man,” Ermal complained. “You made me strip.”

“You didn’t have to. I was too hot. What was your excuse again?”

“Mean, mean, mean,” Ermal sat up and pressed lightly on Fabrizio’s shoulders. “Stay in the dirt where you belong.”

“Only if you stay here with me.”

Fabrizio grabbed his arms and pulled him down. Ermal’s head landed on his chest and he lifted it to touch their noses together. “I can’t,” he said. He tried to sit up, but Fabrizio wrapped his arms around him to keep him in place, and Ermal burst out laughing as he submitted to putting his head back on his chest. “I can feel an ant crawling on my leg.”

Fabrizio gave a cursory swipe across the offending limb. “Is it still there?”

“It’s higher up.”

“Where?” He moved his hand, waiting for instruction.

“Higher.”

“Ermal, I am a very busy man. You must show me exactly where.”

His hand was lifted and placed on Ermal’s hip. “Here?” he asked.

“Yes.”

He couldn’t feel anything, and maybe he’d see something if he looked down, but Ermal’s gaze was like a magnet. Somewhere at the back of his mind, Fabrizio was alarmed at how difficult it was to look away from him. He leaned in and gently pressed their lips together, savouring the taste of them, and the heat rushing to his stomach as Ermal’s mouth opened and their tongues met.

“Fabrizio? Fabrizio’s friend? I brought lemonade!”

They sprang apart so fast that Ermal toppled sideways and would have crushed Fabrizio’s arm under him, if the older man hadn’t already started scrambling to his feet.

“Shit! Shit, shit, shit!”

“Where are my clothes?” Ermal asked frantically. Fabrizio grabbed the nearest piece of fabric and shook it out, and then threw it over. “That’s your shirt.”

“Are these mine?”

Ermal held up a pair of trousers and Fabrizio snatched them away. “They’re mine for now. Go, hide. I’ll get rid of him.”

There were dust and stones embedded in his back and knees, and juice stains on his skin. He walked around the vines into Guido’s view, trying not to look guilty or self-conscious.

“Hard at work, I see” the owner said cheerfully, handing over two glasses of fizzing lemonade with shards of ice rapidly melting within. Fabrizio’s mouth watered at the very sight of them.

“Thank you.”

He took the glasses and walked away with indecent haste, glancing over his shoulder to make sure Guido was leaving.

“He’s gone. Come and get your lemonade.”

Ermal peered around a vine, clad only in a shirt, and looked so sexy that Fabrizio’s stomach dropped. He handed over one of the glasses and sipped at his own. Ermal threw the cool drink back too fast and choked on the bubbles. Fabrizio rubbed his back and then left his arm across the other man’s shoulders.

“We crushed the grapes” Ermal said sadly. Fabrizio followed his eyes to the upturned trugs and pulverised fruit that lay on the ground around where they had been. Thank goodness Guido hadn’t taken a few more steps and seen what they’d done.

“That was not one of my best ideas,” he conceded. “Now we’ll have to do all of this again.”

Ermal let out a low moan of despair. Fabrizio stepped in front of him. “Would you like to meet at a place where we won’t be interrupted next time?” he offered.

“Where?”

“My house. I could cook dinner. You could stay the night if you wanted.”

Ermal blinked and his brow furrowed slightly. “What’s on the menu?”

“What would you like?”

“What are you offering?”

As they spoke, their hands moved closer, until they felt their fingers intertwine. Neither of them broke eye contact.

“Lasagne?” Fabrizio suggested.

“Oh,” Ermal sounded surprised and a little put-out. “Yes, lasagne is fine.”

“When? Tomorrow?”

The other man squinted thoughtfully, and then met Fabrizio’s eye with a mischievous glint. “Tomorrow is very far away.”

He felt a smile spread across his face. “I understand. Tonight may be the safest option.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What's the time, Mr Wolf? It's dinner time!

Four hours later, Fabrizio was standing over a pot and willing the food to cook faster. His intention had been to make a steak for Ermal as a nice surprise, with beans and onions and bread. Unfortunately the best laid plans often go wrong and, in hindsight, serving two separate meals simultaneously was beyond his meagre capabilities. So it was cheese lasagne for them both and the setback meant that he was still cooking when a knock sounded at his door.

“Alright!”

He checked to make sure the pot could be left unattended for a few minutes and went to open the door. No-one should look as good as Ermal did in a white shirt and denim overalls.

“You look...wow” Fabrizio remarked. The other man smiled shyly and shrugged. “I don't look that different.”

“No, but...” Fabrizio shook his head and stepped back. “Come in.”

“Sorry I'm late” Ermal said, crossing the threshold.

“Three minutes late,” Fabrizio agreed. “You had me worried. Still, you're here now.” He glanced around the street and then closed the door, joining Ermal as he looked curiously into the pot. “I'm afraid the lasagne is still cooking, but I got strawberries for dessert so you can start on those if you want.”

Ermal’s eyes lit up. “I love strawberries!”

“I thought you might,” Fabrizio smiled. “That’s why I bought them. And I splashed out on the wine. It's been in a cellar for twenty years.”

“That doesn't sound nice.”

“Well, they charge extra for vintage, so we'll soon find out.”

Ermal sat at the table and Fabrizio poured some wine for him. The other man gave a poised smile and flung the entire cup down his throat. “Relax,” Fabrizio said anxiously. “Drink a bit more slowly. Have some more.”

He poured another cup of wine and Ermal sipped it carefully. “Are you trying to get me drunk?” he queried, smiling.

Fabrizio laughed. “I’m trying to get you drunk so you won’t notice if the food tastes horrible.”

“I’m sure it’ll be lovely.”

Fabrizio was less confident in that. The pasta was boiling over and the salad was visibly wilted as he rushed around, trying to keep all balls in the air. He didn’t often cook proper meals and certainly not for anyone who mattered. It didn’t come naturally to him.

When at last the meal was served, they sat facing each other across the table, sliding pasta back and forth on their plates. Conversation was limited. Every time Fabrizio looked up to speak, he’d find Ermal already watching him and forget his words. He hadn’t eaten more than a few mouthfuls and Fabrizio couldn’t even be annoyed. He couldn’t eat anything either.

“Is that all you're going to eat?” he said finally, when the lasagne had gone cold and he’d admitted defeat. Ermal sighed and sat back in his chair. “I'm sorry, I'm sure it's lovely.”

“It's fine.” Fabrizio stood up and collected their plates.

“Will you never cook for me again?”

He looked back and found Ermal staring at him again, eyes filled with regret and sadness. “Of course I will, and don't look so miserable” he retorted.

“It's not because it's bad,” Ermal insisted. “It's just because I'm nervous.”

“Nervous?” Fabrizio left the plates in the sink and turned towards him. “You've got nothing to be nervous about.”

“Don't I?” Ermal asked, looking him straight in the eye. He felt a shiver go through him. His feet moved automatically across the room, bringing his chair over to Ermal's side of the table and sitting down beside him.

“No,” he said softly, lifting a stray curl out of his eyes. “You have nothing to be nervous about. I don't bite” he added, smiling.

“Oh, then I'm definitely leaving.”

Fabrizio felt another bolt of surprise go through him, and wondered if he would ever get used to this funny mix of innocent and sexy that was uniquely Ermal. Once again he had that sense of standing onto the edge of a long drop. It was tempting to take the final step forward and tumble headlong into whatever awaited him, but he was afraid that there could be no way back if he did.

“Bizio,” Ermal’s voice brought him back to the present. “We both know why I'm here, and it's not to be fed. Why don't we just cut to the chase?”

“You're right.” He stood up and took Ermal's hand, leading him towards the bed, and then past it. He wondered how long he would get away with it, and the answer was almost to the front door. He had extended his hand to open it when a tug on his other arm made him turn.

“Where are we going?” Ermal asked, looking so adorably confused that Fabrizio was tempted to end the game immediately.

“To the tavern for a drink” he replied innocently, and watched in delight as Ermal's face fell into a hilarious tableau of betrayal.

“I'm joking.”

“That's not a...” Ermal's indignation was cut short by a kiss. As Fabrizio had suspected, once the leap was made, there was no turning back. He was off the precipice and falling, falling, falling, with no idea if he would ever stop. Ermal smiled against his lips and wrapped his arms around his neck. He had to stop only because he was kissing more than breathing.

“Bizio...” Ermal whispered, and the sound of the name did funny things to his body, which were only compounded by a pair of dark eyes gazing at him. “I haven't...been with someone...”

“It's okay,” he whispered back. “It's been ages since I had sex too.”

“Oh...Why are we whispering?”

“I don't know.” He grinned and kissed him again.

After a few more, Ermal murmured “Okay” and broke away. He marched into the bedroom and sat down on the edge of the bed, looking expectant. Fabrizio followed, sat down beside him and put a hand on the back of his neck in what he hoped was a reassuring manner.

“We don't have to do anything if you don't want to,” he said. “We can just lie here.”

Ermal nodded thoughtfully, and then shook his head. “I want to see what it's like” he admitted.

“Okay. Do you want me to take the lead?”

“Uh-huh.”

“If I do something you don't like, stop me.”

It had been a long time since he’d slept with someone, and his past experience hadn’t been pleasant. Dirty, hollow fumbles in dark corners that were, like everything else in life, a battle for dominance. If he won that battle, he felt on top of the world. If he lost, self-disgust stopped him from looking in a mirror for days. There was no love in sex like that. It was all about getting your pleasure at the expense of someone else, and if you weren't strong enough to get the upper hand, you were little better than a piece of meat.

He didn’t want it to be that way with Ermal.

It was swiftly clear that it would not be, and that the night wasn't going to end as hoped. Ermal's level of inexperience was far greater than Fabrizio had anticipated and he had to laugh at what a disaster it was. Ermal had fallen off the bed and Fabrizio had found himself unable to straighten his leg after the muscles seized up, before they decided to give up and try again another day.

In one way, Fabrizio was disappointed. On the other hand, it was hard to be too disappointed when he had a beautiful man in his arms and all night to kiss him. It wasn't better than sex, but it was as good.

“This reminds me of a poem” he remarked lazily, only half-intending to be heard. Ermal, however, lifted his head curiously. “Oh? Which one?” he asked.

“It's called 'The Sun Rising'. It's by John Donne. I have it in a book over there, but I don't want to move.”

“Can you remember it?”

“Not exactly. It goes something like 'the sun revolves around this bed because everything that matters in the world is in this bed, in other words the two people in it.' That's what I was thinking of.”

“That's nice” Ermal said, lowering his head again to rest it on Fabrizio’s chest.

“That's what I thought. I thought, that's really nice.” He grinned. He felt drunk even though he’d barely touched any wine. That should change. They should have some more wine, but that would involve moving.

He wrapped his arms around Ermal and pulled him close until the other man was half on top of him, his head tucked in Fabrizio's neck, and his hair getting in the way of any further kisses.

“I've never been as happy as I am right now” he said.

“Me too.”

His voice rumbled against Fabrizio's skin. He adjusted his hold, trying to pull Ermal even further into him, even though it was impossible for them to get any closer.

“Bizio,” Ermal mumbled. “You're suffocating me.”

“Oh.” He let go and Ermal rolled to lie next to him, smiling with amusement. “Sorry, I like being close to you.”

“You are close to me. There's no need to try to pull me inside your skin.”

Fabrizio sighed and turned onto his side so they were lying face to face. “I've never felt anything like this before,” he admitted quietly. “I'm still learning how to handle it.”

Ermal’s smile turned soft and he reached out to stroke his hair, Fabrizio closing his eyes to savour the soothing feeling. “You're not alone with that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summer has now ended and, as they say in some obscure TV show, winter is coming. At least my seasons will match up temporarily :) Thank you for reading. I hope you liked the chapter and if you did, please leave a heart or a few sentences. I thrive on comments. Thank you <3


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fabrizio's hunt receives some unexpected success, but is the balance already shifting?

The sizzling air and cricket chirps of summer gave way to the cool breezes of autumn.

As the days got shorter, Fabrizio was getting less inclined to let Ermal walk home in the evening, so he was gradually spending more time in the village. Evenings were spent baking endless batches of cookies, learning the correct melting point of chocolate and how long biscuits took to burn as they went along, before eating what was edible outside. Ermal could make an excellent cup of hot chocolate to accompany the food, and Fabrizio would wrap them both up tightly against the chill. The church bells would chime to signal the official beginning of night, the sound carrying clearly through the still air and leaving behind a breathless silence that had an instant calming effect on Fabrizio, and then the sound of distant barks and bird calls would fill the air. In those moments, he felt as if everything was right with the world.

The mezzanine, now transformed from an oven to the cosiest sleeping quarters in the house, was strewn with books and magazines from the nights that Ermal stayed over. He could go through literature at a remarkable pace. Fabrizio visited the little book stall every week to keep him supplied. They read together on those nights, sharing and recommending books, reading the funny parts out loud to each other.

The routine seldom varied, and when it did, it was only a change of venue to the octagonal house while Fabrizio provided orders or assisted Ermal. The promised apples appeared on the trees, juicy and red, and they recreated their attempts at fruit-picking with significantly more success. Ermal gave half of the haul to Fabrizio as payment, to sell at the market or eat, which was another incentive not to do any damage to them. Fabrizio unfortunately had to leave early on those autumn nights to get home before sundown, and his cottage felt very lonely and his evenings very long without Ermal. How had he filled his time before? He must have done it, but he seemed to have forgotten the art of being alone.

The first snow of winter fell early in November. Ermal was like a child, wanting to run out and catch flakes on his tongue. Fabrizio saw only the end of the idyllic autumn.

“It's so beautiful, like a Christmas postcard” Ermal declared enthusiastically, barely able to stay still and constantly gazing out of the window.

“Haven't you ever seen snow before?” Fabrizio muttered.

“I have, but every year it's so pretty.”

“You say that now. We'll see if you say that in five months when you're waist-deep in it. Winter is always a tough season.”

He stepped back and surveyed his handiwork. Half of Ermal's face was covered by a scarf, his curls were valiantly attempting to escape the ears of his winter hat, and his body was padded with a jacket, fleece and coat. Only gloves and winter boots were required and he would be ready to go.

“What makes it tough?” Ermal asked, playing with the hood on the back of his coat.

“People want new fur coats, shawls, trousers, boots. The orders get backed up every year.”

“Does that mean you'll be working a lot?”

“It does. I'm not going to be around much. Unfortunately while my workload picks up, the farms do nothing for the season so there will be a lot more people around the village at all hours now.”

Ermal squinted in confusion. “Is that bad?”

Fabrizio shrugged as he took a pair of heavy duty winter gloves from the chest beside the bed. “I worry about you being here on your own, although maybe I shouldn't.”

“Is it the boys?”

“Partly them, partly some other people who might not treat you kindly.”

“I've never spent a winter on my own” Ermal remarked. He reached up to scratch his head, only to find that he couldn’t under all the layers.

“You're not spending it on your own,” Fabrizio replied immediately. “We'll work something out and if that involves you living here full-time for the season, that's what we'll do.”

“No,” Ermal shook his head. “I don't want to be trapped in the house when you're not here. I love the forest in winter, and if I'm not allowed to go around the village by myself, I'd rather go back there. If you're going to be hunting a lot, you can visit me at the house, right?”

“Of course, and I will,” Fabrizio held his face in his hands, although all of the clothing prevented him from feeling the soft skin underneath. “I can't go a whole season without seeing that face.” He kissed the end of his nose and watched the light dusting of pink appear on his cheeks, albeit that may have been partly caused by being too well wrapped up to be indoors.

“I know it's a lot of work for you, but I hope there'll be time for fun too,” Ermal said. “My mother and I used to build snowmen and go sledding and the lake freezes around December so you can walk on it.”

“I haven't built a snowman since I was a child,” Fabrizio mused. “You might have to teach me.”

Ermal’s face lit up at the possibility. “I will,” he promised. “And I'll make you a sled.”

Fabrizio pulled the scarf down to kiss his lips, and he wouldn’t have stopped at only one, but a hard knock at the door burst their private bubble.

“Ugh, it begins already,” he muttered, heading towards the door and then glancing back at Ermal. “Go through the other door, and have fun.”

**

As expected for the season, Fabrizio's orders had been backed up with the result that he hadn't seen Ermal at all for over a week. He missed him terribly and that was honestly infuriating. How pathetic was he? He had lived his whole life relying on no-one, and being perfectly happy like that, yet Ermal only needed a few months to make him stupid. As a testament to that, there was a full moon tonight and Fabrizio's first plaintive thought had been whether Ermal was looking at it. No doubt he'd be amazed by such a beautiful spectacle and his enthusiasm would prove infectious, if only Fabrizio was with him now.

A second later, his brain re-engaged and he suddenly realised what this meant. He scrambled to assemble his hunting supplies. There was no time to waste. Honestly, he thought irritably as he moved through the trees, sometimes it was as if his brain had been left outside in the rain to soak. Without Ermal to make it up to him with his smiles and hugs, being in love was simply annoying. Look, he was doing it again, mulling over Ermal instead of watching for tracks. The snow on the ground coupled with the light in the sky offered ideal conditions for tracking, if only he could start concentrating.

His lantern caught a set of paw prints in the snow and his heart skipped a beat. He forced himself to stay calm and bent down to get a better look. The print was distinctively canine and when he placed his hand next it, they were of roughly equal size. Only one animal could be responsible. He swung the light around to find where it went, and saw that the tracks had come from one side of the path and crossed right in front of him before disappearing into the trees. Caught between retracing the animal's steps to find its den or following the wolf itself, he chose the latter option, figuring that it would be better to keep moving than sit in the cold for who knows how long.

He chased that animal for hours. It led him across a frozen river and along a narrow ridge which forced him to press his back to the rock and shuffle sideways. When he reached the other side, he found that the tracks had disappeared. A glance around relocated them, doubling back quickly on themselves and vanishing again on the ice. Fabrizio looked at them in disbelief, at the ridge with despair, and started to make his slow way back.

He followed them towards a stream where they stopped, but didn’t reappear on the other side. Only a sharp eye allowed Fabrizio to see that the original tracks were unusually deep and, unless the wolf had gained a lot of weight since their last meeting, it had backtracked by stepping in its own prints. He stared at that for several awestruck seconds.

“Clever girl” he whispered, his voice sounding very loud in the cold air.

He continued following the prints through the trees, up slopes, around a clearing that might have been the old flower meadow- which was a confusing hotchpotch of paws, as if the wolf had taken the time to play in the fresh snow before continuing its straight trajectory into the trees- and finally around a small cave set in the middle of nowhere. Fabrizio thought it must be the creature's den, but the paws made a perfect circle around the rock without ever going inside, and then shot off again.

He was freezing cold and sweating, an unpleasant combination, when he stumbled onto the edge of the frozen lake. The paws ended abruptly where he stood and he looked out across the ice, and then barked with laughter as his gaze landed on an unexpected sight. At the top of the steep hill ahead of him, barely poking above the trees, was an empty bell tower. He was perhaps half an hour away from the octagonal house, taking the lake into account. He tested the ice with his foot and it cracked immediately under the small amount of weight. He sighed, accepting defeat. So near and yet so far, in more ways than one.

The sun was coming up by the time he managed to find his way home. His fingers and toes were in agony and it hurt to breathe. He could barely light the fire with his numb fingers, and only his last shred of self-control prevented him from sticking his hands directly into the flames. He grabbed the wolf pelt blanket and wrapped it around his shoulders, knowing that he would warm up in a few hours, but desperate to feel some heat immediately. He would probably get a cold too. Damn it! He grabbed a bottle of whiskey and downed a glass, and then another. Now that was pleasantly hot. His head felt a little woozy, as if he could lie down on the floor and sleep right now. It was a nice feeling. That wolf was clever, he declared silently, as if he was publicly proclaiming some great discovery. He may have underestimated his opponent, but this was turning out to be the most exciting hunt of his life.

“I hope you have plenty more tricks up your sleeve,” he muttered, hearing the sniffles start and drinking more whiskey. “Or not your sleeve. Your fur. I've got some tricks of my own.”

**

Ermal was sitting outside his front door, simply staring into the trees. He waved as Fabrizio approached.

“Good morning,” Fabrizio said cheerfully, bending down to kiss him. “How did you sleep?”

“Not brilliantly.”

“It was very cold last night, wasn’t it?” Fabrizio agreed. “That blanket you have is made for summer. It’s useless in this weather. I brought you a bigger and thicker blanket, and some medicine in case the cold makes you sick.” He sat down and started unloading his supplies. “These are for fever, these are for pain, the needle and thread is in case you need a suture and this is a special herbal medicine for blood poisoning. Obviously you know what bandages are for. And a bottle of whiskey to help you sleep.”

Ermal looked at the small apothecary’s shop gathered around his feet and then at Fabrizio. “Did you go hunting last night?” he asked.

Fabrizio startled. “No” he replied automatically. That was the wrong answer, wasn’t it? Why would Ermal ask that? Oh no, what if he’d seen him across the lake?

“That's a shame. I saw your wolf.”

“Did you?” he asked warily.

Ermal nodded. “It walked right past the house. It was very pretty, just like you said.”

“Where were you?”

“At the window.”

“Did it see you? Did it try to get in?” Fabrizio asked, suddenly being assaulted by a host of new problems that he’d never considered before.

“Of course not” Ermal retorted, frowning as if he was offended by this insult to the wolf’s character.

“I never thought about that,” Fabrizio said. “Of course, you're the only thing living out here. You could attract predators if you're cooking meat, especially in winter. Is there anything you can secure the door with?”

“Fabrizio, relax,” Ermal knelt down and took his hands, rubbing them gently. “I only told you because I thought you'd be interested, not to annoy you.”

“I can be a little sensitive when it comes to you” he confessed ruefully.

“Clearly,” Ermal remarked dryly. “Don't start hunting it again, please, or don't lie to me if you do.”

“I wouldn't...”

“I know I can be quite sensitive about this as well, but please don't lie to me,” Ermal interrupted. “Honesty matters more. I want to be able to trust you.”

Fabrizio looked at him, captivated once again by the full force of his gaze when it was directly squarely at him. He really did love Ermal’s eyes. It was impossible not to be hypnotised by them. They looked as if they could see into a man’s heart and discover all of his secrets, and perhaps they could. It certainly seemed to work on Fabrizio.

“I did see the wolf, but I wasn't looking for it. I saw its tracks and followed, but then I lost it” he said. The best lies, after all, were born from truth.

“You weren't looking for it?” Ermal asked. Fabrizio shook his head. “I swear on my life, no. I made you a promise.”

He saw Ermal’s shoulders relax and breathed his own sigh of relief. “Thank you. I guess you didn't catch it then” the other man said.

“No. It was exhausting, but so exhilarating. It backtracked by walking in its own prints. Isn't that incredible?” His enthusiasm bubbled over and how nice it was to be able to talk about this with his favourite person, not to have to keep something so remarkable a secret.

“It is incredible. It would be a shame to kill such a clever animal.”

Okay, so comments like that were always going to be the price of honesty. He could live with it. “It would be,” he agreed. “If only she wasn't the last of her kind. I'd gladly leave her alive if there were any other option, but she...She can't evade detection forever. Someone will find her. It has to be me.”

“Bizio, no-one else comes into these woods except you. As long as she doesn't go near the village, she can evade detection indefinitely.”

He had called him Bizio again, he noted. That meant the ship was steady and the argument almost over.

“She will go near the village, especially now that it's winter. It's an easy source of food for her” he replied. Ermal gave a doubtful hum, but said no more about it.

**

Fabrizio couldn't remember the last time he'd spent a day doing nothing. Even when he wasn't doing anything productive, he was always engaged in some form of activity, but he could get to enjoy laziness if this was what it had to offer. Ermal's sleepless night had left him wanting only to curl up in his new winter blanket, preferably with Fabrizio, and doze the daylight hours away. It should have been boring. It wasn't.

The afternoon drifted into evening in a haze, and before Fabrizio knew it, the house had plunged into darkness and Ermal had left him for the first time in hours to light some candles. He put his hands behind his head to watch as the dim light flickered into life, casting ominous shadows, and then Ermal curled up in his arms once more. Fabrizio ran a hand over his hair and then down his back. “Why am I so tired?” he sighed. “I haven’t done anything.”

“You have,” Ermal said mischievously. “Three times.”

“Yes, well…It still doesn’t account for why I want to sleep so much.”

“Because you can,” Ermal said matter-of-factly. “No-one needs you to stay awake for anything. It’s too late to go home now. You should just stay here until morning.” A kiss on the corner of his mouth indicated that this was more of an invitation than a suggestion.

“Gladly. Don’t disappear while I’m sleeping” Fabrizio ordered, hearing a giggle next to him.

“I won’t.”

Fabrizio looked for Ermal’s hand and then took a secure hold of it. “Oh, making sure I can’t leave? Ye of little faith” his lover remarked good-humouredly.

“No escape now” he agreed, and let his eyes close.

When he awoke again, he found himself the sole occupant of the blanket. He sat up, frowning at the empty room before him, and then found his clothes in a neat pile beside his head. How thoughtful. He stepped outside and saw footprints leading from the door of the octagonal house to the copse of trees at the back. Where on earth could he be going? Nothing was growing on the trees and, with the lake frozen, fishing wasn’t a possibility either.

Curious, Fabrizio followed the tracks, scanning the area for a flash of colour.

“Ermal? It’s Fabrizio.”

Something wasn’t right. It was too silent. The air hummed with anticipation.

“I know what you’re planning and I warn you, if you start a war…”

A snowball hit the back of his neck and he spun around, immediately spying the culprit. He was hiding behind a tree, but the toe of his boot poked out. Fabrizio grinned. He said nothing and bent to grab a handful of snow, packing it into a ball as he crept up on the tree. Foolish boy. Now he was trapped with no route of escape, no way to even check on his enemy’s position.

“Got you!”

He swung around the tree and threw his snowball. It sailed through empty air and was crushed against the bark of a neighbouring tree. Fabrizio blinked. There was no-one here. A single winter boot sat on the ground, carefully positioned to make the toe visible. He looked at it and barked with laughter.

“I’m impressed,” he remarked loudly. “Tell me you are not walking around with one shoe on.”

Snow hit the top of his head, finding his way under his collar to cause a shiver. He looked up and met a pair of dark eyes grinning down from the tree. Fabrizio shook his head and leaned against the trunk. “You take too much pleasure in getting the better of me” he said.

“I take the war seriously.”

“So I see. Come down and put your boot on before your toes freeze.”

“Promise you won’t do anything?”

Fabrizio held up his palm. “I am a man of honour. The truce is agreed.”

Ermal gripped the branch and lowered himself as far as he could before letting go. He immediately raised his socked foot and hopped to retrieve his boot. Fabrizio smiled at the sight of him, and picked up some snow while Ermal was tying his laces. He hid it behind his back and extended his other arm.

“Hello.”

“Hello” Ermal echoed, naively allowing himself to be wrapped in a hug. It was such a nice feeling to have those arms around him and that soft body pressed against his, and a pity that he couldn’t just enjoy the embrace. Alas, the rules of war were clear. Before Ermal could notice that only one arm was accounted for, Fabrizio lifted his collar and dumped the snow down his back. He shrieked and recoiled, trying fruitlessly to reach back and pull the white powder out. Fabrizio couldn’t help his giggles. He left four seconds for the shock to subside and the snow to melt.

“Run.”

He did so immediately and Fabrizio gleefully chased, following him over roots and around trunks. Ermal cackled with delight before taking off deeper into the trees. The snow became thicker here and soon they were both out of their depth, up to their thighs in snowdrifts like wedding cakes, having to lift their legs high just to take another step. The chase soon slowed with both of them pausing frequently to catch their breath, sometimes with one trying to push for a little more ground while the other was resting. When Fabrizio looked ahead, the pristine path stretched as far as the eye could see, and he was about to admit defeat and ask to return to the house when Ermal changed tack. He went sideways and started to climb a hill, one so steep that the second half had to be done on hands and knees. It was an excellent way to lose a pursuer, but he failed to account for his own failing energy levels. He was still catching his breath when Fabrizio caught up to him.

“No,” he moaned at the sight of Fabrizio’s head cresting the hill. He started to shuffle backwards. “No, no, no…”

Fabrizio crawled at speed to stop him escaping and pinned his ankles to the ground. “You made your choice, accept your fate.”

Ermal sighed and let his head rest on the ground, his deep breaths causing huge plumes of smoke. Fabrizio took mercy and, rather than attempt further punishment, lay down beside him. His hand found Ermal’s and interlaced their fingers.

“We have to go back to the house and warm up” he said after a few minutes.

Ermal tugged his hand imploringly. “No, let’s stay out for a little while. Let’s make snow angels.”

“Alright, snow angels and then house.”

The smile he received was almost worth the painful chill. He regretfully released Ermal’s hand and moved away, spread his arms and legs for a few seconds, and then got up to see his handiwork. He had left behind a shape not unlike the decoration which used to sit atop his family Christmas tree. He went over to Ermal, still lying on the ground with icy wings on either side of him, and offered his hands to help him up. He accepted the assistance and Fabrizio started to brush the snow from his back and hair, perhaps running his fingers through the curls more than was necessary.

“This hill would be good for sledding” his lover suggested hopefully. Fabrizio kissed the tip of his cold nose.

“We’ll get the sleds and come back. For now, I am in desperate need of a fire.”

*

Ermal insisted on making Fabrizio sit on the floor with the blanket around his shoulders, despite repeated attempts to help with the fire. It took some time to light and required several trips to the snowy outdoors for wood. At last the flames were licking into life and Ermal gently blew in the ashes underneath to feed them. Fabrizio took the blanket off and offered it to him, but Ermal shook his head and brought only one corner around his shoulders.

“We can share it until the house is warmer” he said.

Predictably they shared it for longer than that. The heat in their little cocoon lulled Fabrizio into a kind of stupor, where the hours melted away. At one point he fell asleep and woke up not knowing how much time had passed, and not caring either. There was a warm body next to his and Fabrizio slowly rolled onto his side to face him.

Ermal looked so peaceful in sleep, with his lips in a perfect pink O that slightly expanded and retracted as he breathed, and his hair which was in glorious disarray. Stripes of light and shadow were playing across his face, and Fabrizio adjusted his position so his head cast darkness across Ermal's face, protecting him from the firelight. After a moment, he leaned in and carefully stole a kiss from his lips, which gained no reaction beyond a sigh.

Fabrizio caressed the few curls resting against his lover’s face. Ermal's smooth brow creased with a frown and his eyes slowly blinked open. They were dull and blank, gazing around in confusion, until they landed on Fabrizio and a tired smile pulled his mouth upwards.

“Bizio,” he murmured. He reached out and ran his fingers through Fabrizio’s hair. “Your hair is messy.”

“Yes, I know.”

Ermal shifted closer and pulled him into a hug. Fabrizio's heart beat with joy as he melted into it. He could happily go back to sleep here, Ermal's body next to him, his head resting in the other man's neck.

“I love you” Ermal said quietly.

Fabrizio pulled out of his arms and kissed him softly. He rested their foreheads together, breathing him in. Ermal’s hand stroked his cheek. “You don’t say it back?” he queried.

Fabrizio smiled. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s all I have left.”

“You’re very strange,” Ermal remarked. His eyes were already half-closed and he was on the point of falling back to sleep, so there was no indication that he was offended by the refusal. Fabrizio thought he might even regard the conversation as a dream tomorrow. “Stay.”

“I will.”

He waited until he was sure Ermal had gone back to sleep before speaking again. “You’re my world” he whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read, kudos, comment, make a writer happy :)


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Goodwill to all men is easier to preach than to practice.

The invitation to attend the Christmas Mass had been offered spontaneously, after Fabrizio asked about how Ermal planned to spend the impending festive season and received a shrug in response. “I can hear the bells” he said.

“I usually go to church on Christmas,” Fabrizio had remarked. “You can come too.”

The plan was for Ermal to stay after the gathering ended at midnight, and tomorrow they could spend Christmas Day together. Fabrizio had spent the past few weeks frantically searching for something to use as a gift and had finally spent over the odds on a brooch. Most of them were meant for women and were far too sparkly and decorative, and among the limited men’s selection he’d laughed with delight upon finding a silver one carved in the shape of a wolf’s head emerging from a pillar of flames, but maybe that was a little too near the knuckle. He’d finally gone for a tiny golden pin in the shape of a rose. Ermal liked flowers, and it was small enough that people might not notice the ornament. He’d also worked a couple of pelts into a cloak to gift him at the same time. A little antiquated, sure, but very warm and it gave him an excuse for the brooch. Actually, that might be an interesting business venture to explore…

He heard footsteps crunching through the snow and hid a smile, casually turning his back to the trees. Ermal’s timing was as impeccable as always. One, two, three crunches and then two arms encircled his shoulders gently, ensuring he wasn’t spooked by the unexpected attack, and a head pressed into his back. “Got you.”

“Ah, you got me,” Fabrizio agreed, not even bothering to sound surprised. His loose restraints were released and he turned to face his visitor. “Merry Christmas.”

He left a light kiss on his cheek, the cold having turned it to a rosy circle, and watched Ermal’s face turn even pinker until he hid it in Fabrizio's shoulder. He could feel the heat from the other man's skin through his scarf and, for just a moment, wrapped him in his arms and squeezed tightly. The public arena was a shame. Without it, Fabrizio probably wouldn't have ended the hug any time soon.

“People are heading into the church already. I thought you weren’t coming.”

“I’m not” Ermal mumbled.

“So have you sent your ghost along to deliver the message?” Fabrizio asked, smiling.

“No, I mean…” Ermal stepped out of the hug and clung onto his own arm. “Bizio…I’m not sure if this is a good idea.”

“What isn’t a good idea?”

“Coming here, being in the middle of a crowd…” He trailed off miserably, stepping out of the way of oncoming worshippers.

“No-one is going to look at you or talk to you,” Fabrizio said gently. “We’re just going to stand there and listen, and sing a bit. That’s all there is to it.”

“I just think I should go home.”

An irrational wave of anger rose up in him. “So you came all this way just to tell me you’re going home?” he demanded, hearing the fury in his voice.

“I didn’t want to let you down again” Ermal explained. The resentment dispelled somewhat.

“If you can’t handle it, it’s okay. We can just go to my house and play a few card games” Fabrizio suggested, but Ermal shook his head without meeting his eye and he felt the fire again before it cooled to ice. He could feel his heart curling in on itself, forming a protective layer of stone in anticipation of the pain that he’d always known would be an inevitable consequence of taking this fall.

“What is going on? Why do you do this? It’s like you’re trying to push me away.”

“No!” Ermal looked shocked, and tried to reach out, but Fabrizio stepped back.

“Maybe you should go home.”

“No,” Ermal sped to his side and gripped his arm. “I’m sorry. I was being silly and overreacting. I’ll be fine.”

Fabrizio noticed a few curious and interested looks from villagers as they passed on their way to the church. “Great,” he overheard one young woman say gleefully to her companion. “There’s nothing I love more than seeing other people arguing. It makes me feel like I’m not the only person in the world who’s miserable.”

_Oh don’t worry, you’re not._ He looked at Ermal and sighed in exasperation. “What do you want?”

“Nothing,” he said. “Can we forget about it and go to the church like we planned?”

“Alright.”

“Oh, be nice to her. Give her a kiss,” called out a scruffy old man, who had several opened bottles of whiskey sticking out of his torn overcoat pocket and who had been watching the proceedings with great interest. “She’s sorry. Aren’t you, cara?”

“Come on” Fabrizio muttered, turning Ermal around and steering him towards the church.

“Give her a slap,” the suddenly nasty old man shouted. “It’s the only language they understand!”

Fabrizio picked up the pace, Ermal keeping up, until the old man’s cries became fainter. They turned a corner and finally couldn’t hear him anymore. Ermal looked back and released a long breath, creating a column of smoke in the air. “That was strange!”

Fabrizio smiled briefly and nodded. Things still felt tense and uncomfortable between them, until he heard a gasp from beside him.

“Look at the lights, Bizio. They’re so pretty.”

Ermal was staring up at the brightly coloured lanterns bridging the gaps between trees and buildings, his eyes wide with childlike wonder, and in that moment Fabrizio would have killed for him.

Claudio greeted them as they shuffled inside with the crowd, handing out chocolates to the children and hymn sheets to their parents, shaking hands and urging everyone to bless themselves with the holy water as they entered. Ermal duly dipped his hand in the font with everyone else, copying the appropriate action he saw around him, while Fabrizio pretended he hadn’t noticed it at all. He slipped into the back row of pews, but Ermal kept walking and beckoned him to follow. Irritably he chased him up the aisle and caught him three rows back from the altar.

“Not here, at the back” he hissed.

“I want to see properly” Ermal insisted.

“What? It’s not a theatre…”

The line of people coming up the aisle bumped into him. He had no choice but to step into the nearest row and sit down. Three rows from the front. His leg started jumping with anxiety and he could barely nod at the couple who sat beside him, trapping him inside. His mother liked to sit at the front, in the very first row if she could get it. He could feel the eyes of everyone on his back and the gaze of the preacher would drift over his face as he sermonised, as if they could all see that he was an imposter.

There was the smell of incense as altar boys walked past and then Claudio joined them, standing at the pulpit and beaming down at his congregation. “Good evening and welcome. I’m so pleased to see that so many of you made the trip in the snow to be here.”

Fabrizio felt himself relax marginally. It was Claudio up there now. There was no need to be frightened.

As the Mass got underway, it was soon apparent that if Ermal had ever known the art of attending church, he had long forgotten it. He had no respect for the solemnity of the gathering and kept trying to talk.

“Who's Gloria? Why does the priest talk like that? Why do we have to put money in the basket?”

Even Fabrizio, who couldn't have less respect for God if he tried, wouldn't behave like that in the middle of a Mass. It was embarrassing to see those around him flashing irritated looks, and even worse to see the surprise and anger on Ermal's face when Fabrizio hissed at him to be quiet.

Like a chastised child, he promptly went in the opposite direction and clammed up, only shaking his head when Fabrizio asked if he wanted to go up for Communion. It was clear from his furious expression that this silence was a protest, but Fabrizio was just grateful that he'd stopped drawing attention to himself.

The congregation was called upon to give the sign of peace, and Ermal once again completely missed the point. While everyone else turned to their immediate neighbours and whispered, “May peace be with you”, barely holding onto one another's hands, Ermal sought people out from every direction even if he had to stretch to reach them and gripped their hands in friendly greeting. He also didn't say anything while doing it. The handshakes were accepted with bemused politeness by the adults, and with great enthusiasm by the children, but Fabrizio noticed the frowns he was receiving and began to feel very uncomfortable. Not many people had acknowledged Ermal's presence before, too distracted by their own lives, but now an entire section of the congregation seemed aware of him.

The service ended with hymns, which in Fabrizio's mind were the only reasons to attend. It was quite spectacular to listen to each tuneless voice rise and become part of a pleasant harmony. He tended to simply mouth the parts- once he had joined in loud and proud, until his father scolded him, saying that he was yelling more than singing and disturbing everyone- and Ermal was mumbling nonsense as he flipped anxiously through the book of hymns, searching for the right one. Fabrizio took the book, scanned the pages quickly until he found it, and handed it back.

“Thank you” Ermal whispered loudly.

“Shhh!”

Claudio ordered them to go forth in peace and stepped back from his pulpit. Most people began to turn towards the door, while a few of them surged towards the altar to speak with their priest. The couple beside Fabrizio left and freed him. He gratefully stood and looked back to see if Ermal was following. He wasn’t. He was still sitting on the pew, arms folded like a sulking toddler. It was almost adorable.

“Time to go” Fabrizio said. Ermal turned his head slowly and glared at him. “You're horrible.”

“Excuse me?”

“You invited me here and then you were mean to me. You made me feel stupid.”

“You can't talk during Mass” Fabrizio said, sighing.

“At all?”

“No, not at all. You can't talk, you can't cough or sneeze, and if your baby cries, you take it outside. I don't like it either, but you need to be silent or else you get a lot of judgemental looks.”

“I don't care about that,” Ermal retorted. “You're the one who cares about that. I can't believe you got angry at me when you don't even care about these people.”

“Keep your voice down” he warned.

“No!”

He turned and stormed out of the church. Fabrizio sighed and started to follow, when he began to pick up the words being spoken at the altar close by.

“...absolutely disgraceful...”

“...no manners...”

“...inappropriate...”

“...need to know...”

“...certainly not...”

He turned around and saw a small group gathered around the altar, Claudio in their centre. He looked as if he was being pulled in several different directions trying to listen to them all. Fabrizio walked towards them.

“Hasn't he ever attended church before?” Eleonora demanded irritably. She was the doctor’s wife who still worked with him as a nurse and midwife, and was the oldest of the village’s small group of respected mothers and grandmothers.

“Of course he has, he's a grown man” Cecilia, widowed owner of the bookshop, replied.

“Maybe he's not a Christian” Anna suggested meekly.

“I think he's...” Eleonora dropped her voice and said a horrible word. “I'm not sure where he came from, but what really confuses me is how much time he spends with Fabrizio Mobrici. I've never seen them apart.”

“That's another man who's a bit strange in the head,” Cecilia agreed. “Never married, you know. It makes one wonder...”

Eleonora waved a hand to shush her. “Don't even say such things. Men like that aren't...”

They noticed Fabrizio was standing about two steps away and conversation shut down immediately. A few mumbles and festive greetings to both men ensued, and then they dispersed. Fabrizio remained where he was, looking expectantly at Claudio, who returned his gaze with the air of a guilty man.

“I wasn't going to say anything, but in light of the whispers I'm hearing, I feel I should ask if you're aware of the rumours that are circulating” he said at last.

“I wasn't going to say anything either, but since you ask, I did notice quite a lot of whispering happening around me today” Fabrizio retorted.

“People are a little...curious about why you're spending so much time together,” Claudio admitted, coming closer and lowering his voice. “Where did he even come from? I don't think anyone knows. The doctor says that you brought him home from the woods and you've hardly been away from him since, and that's only in the village. There has been a lot of speculation about where you go when you're hunting.”

“This is ridiculous” Fabrizio muttered, half-turning to check if anyone was behind them. He wanted to walk away, but he couldn’t until he knew exactly what was being said.

“Is he from another village?” Claudio asked.

“Yes.”

“Which one?”

“I don't know. They all run into each other. All I know is that there are trees and then there are farms.” The ease with which the lies came to his tongue was a little alarming.

“Does he live on a farm?” Claudio persisted.

“A tomato farm.”

“His family?”

“All dead. He lives there alone, hence why he's around me so much. He has no-one else.”

Claudio nodded, apparently satisfied with the results of his inquisition. “I'm not saying that I believe anything untoward is happening. I simply want you to be prepared in case someone else tries to speak to you about it.”

Fabrizio tried to ignore the stabbing pain in his heart at that word, ‘untoward’. He’d always seen Claudio as his friend, whether he was wearing a cassock or not, but it suddenly occurred to him that his friend was a priest and he wondered which loyalty would prevail if he was tested.

“They can say what they want about me” he declared.

“It's not you who worries me,” Claudio snapped, his vehemence surprising Fabrizio. “He's an outsider, and completely alone if what you say is true. If this gets worse, you may face glares and whispers, but he could face far worse.”

The silence seemed to last a lifetime. “What are you telling me?” Fabrizio asked finally. “Are you saying he could be hurt because of me?”

Claudio sighed and turned away, starting to pick up the relics from his altar with the aimless air of a man looking for distraction rather than attempting a productive task. “There was an awful case I heard of in another village,” he admitted. “Two young men were caught together, one the mayor's son and the other a newcomer. The mayor's son used his influence to have the newcomer blamed for leading him astray, and they hanged that poor boy. I know this because the son told it to me in confession. I had to drive him from my box with a stick. I think you should send Ermal back to his farm for a time, just to be safe.”

Fabrizio stared at him and, somewhere beneath the horror and anger he felt at that story, was a small ray of hope. If Claudio had already been tested, and that was his response, he might not be doomed to lose everyone in his life should the truth come out.

“I would never betray him like that” he said.

“You may not have to” his friend muttered, extinguishing the candles. When he looked up from his task, Fabrizio was standing on the altar beside him.

“Claudio, what have you heard?” he asked quietly. “Has anyone made threats?”

“No,” Claudio said hurriedly. “It’s all mutterings. The problem is if the mutterings get too loud, things can change very quickly.”

“The next time someone comes to your confession box and mutters to you…”

“No need to finish that thought, Fabrizio,” Claudio cut him off with a stern look. “Some things cannot be taken back. Do not throw the first stone.”

“I won’t” he replied shortly, turned and marched out of the church. He had wild images in his mind of Ermal being held up against a wall by a mob, beaten or even worse, and cursed himself for letting him leave alone. And then he stepped into the cold winter air and found his beloved waiting beside the font for him. He was so relieved to see him well that he forgot they were in the middle of an argument. That was swiftly remedied when, upon seeing him, Ermal strode off down the path.

“Wait, where are you going?” he called.

“Home” Ermal threw over his shoulder.

“You can't,” Fabrizio put on a burst of speed and grabbed his arm, turning him around. “Ermal, wait. You can't leave now. It's past midnight. Come back to my house like we planned. I'm sorry I was so uptight,” he added. “Being in that place puts me on edge.”

Ermal sighed, but didn’t pull away from him. “You’re all I have. I need you to be on my side” he said.

“I am, always. No-one said or did anything to you, did they?”

“No.”

Fabrizio let go of his arm and reached for his hand. Ermal made no protest and Fabrizio rubbed his thumb over his knuckles, spontaneously bringing them to his lips and disregarding the glove in the way. “I was thinking of making some melted cheese sandwiches for our supper, unless you have another idea.”

“Sausages” Ermal replied at once.

“Okay. Will that make you happy?”

Ermal looked at him and raised a slight smile. “Hey…” Fabrizio held his face in his hands and lightly kissed his lips. It was on the tip of his tongue to say those words. ‘I love you’, the only words that could adequately convey how much Ermal meant to him, but which got stuck in his throat every time. This time was no exception. “I want you to be happy” he said instead.

Ermal nodded and walked into a hug. “I’d like that too.”

*

“Will I throw some potatoes in as well and make it a proper meal?” Fabrizio asked, leading the way into the house.

“Okay,” Ermal removed his hat and scarf, and then waved the length of wool across the room. “Aren't you going to decorate your tree?”

The tree in question was a tiny shrub sitting in a pot in the corner. The house was too small to accommodate one of the large firs that were all around them. “I never got round to it and there's not much point now. Do you want to do it?” Fabrizio suggested. “The box of stuff is under my bed.”

Ermal divested the rest of his winter clothes and headed into the bedroom. Fabrizio turned his attention towards the food, filling the pot from the well outside and then hanging it over the fire. Ermal was on his knees by the tree now, carefully picking apart bauble strings, and Fabrizio ruffled his hair as he passed on his way to the mezzanine. A few sausages were brought down and tossed into the bubbling water, and he started to move them around with a wooden spoon.

He turned at the sound of shattering glass. Ermal was staring down at the red shards of what used to be a bauble, his hand shaking.

“Step back. Come over here and watch the stove. I'll clear that up” Fabrizio ordered. Ermal obeyed immediately. He received the wooden spoon and an encouraging pat on the shoulder, and then Fabrizio went to get the broom and started sweeping the shards into a pile on the floor. Fortunately they were all large pieces and he was able to carefully lift them all into the cardboard box where the Christmas decorations normally lived.

He pushed the box behind the tree and then stood back to have a look at it. What had once been a bare stick with a few leaves was now covered in brightly coloured balls and tinsel. Ermal had not thought to accommodate the size. Instead every branch hosted at least three baubles. There was hardly any green left to see.

“You did a good job on the tree,” he remarked. “It looks very bright now.”

“Thanks,” Ermal said shortly, all of his concentration on the sausages. “Will I pour some wine?”

“Good idea. I think my mother left some mulled wine over. I'll be grateful to have someone else drink a bit of that.”

Ermal smiled over his shoulder. “With a recommendation like that, I can hardly wait.”

The mulled wine was retrieved and, a little to Fabrizio’s surprise, Ermal left the pot to grab the bottle from him. “I’ll do it,” he insisted. “Where are your cups?”

Fabrizio pulled two pitchers out of the cupboard and set them down on the worktop. Ermal smiled and pointed over his shoulder. “Watch the sausages.”

The sausages still looked quite pink, he noted with displeasure. The skin was starting to brown, but the meat underneath didn’t look right. He lowered the stake towards the fire to increase the temperature. Ermal appeared by his side with the pitchers, handing one to him with a smile and a “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas” Fabrizio replied. He gently tapped their glasses and took a long sip of wine. Ermal sipped a tiny mouthful and gazed into the dark red liquid as if searching for something. “Why don't you sit down and I'll finish up here?” he said.

“If you don't mind,” Fabrizio was never one to look a gift horse in the mouth. “My arm was starting to hurt.”

“I can imagine.”

He sat down at the kitchen table and took another sip of wine. Lord, but it really was awful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I humbly ask for your kudos and comments, and thank you for reading.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baby, it's cold outside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I have finally got to the New Year in February. Please leave a kudos or a comment to let me know if you enjoyed.

“Wake up.”

Fabrizio came to with a start, feeling wet on his mouth and lifting a hand to wipe away the saliva. He was still sitting at the kitchen table, he realised, and Ermal was hovering anxiously by his shoulder.

“You fell asleep at the table.”

Fabrizio jolted awake again, looking around frantically. He was still at the table. Time hadn’t moved forward, but he’d fallen asleep again. He pressed his hands into his eyes. “I feel so tired. I have to go to bed” he said, alarmed by how weak and croaky his voice was.

“I think so.”

Ermal took his arm and helped him stand, leading him to the bedroom. Fabrizio gratefully collapsed onto his mattress, closed his eyes for a moment, and then gasped as he scrambled back from yet another short sleep. He moved to rest his head on the pillow and looked up at Ermal, still standing beside the bed.

“Are you staying up?”

“Just for a little while. I'm going to read in the mezzanine.”

His eyes were stinging and he couldn't keep them open. It wasn't simply a matter of wanting to sleep. He could not stay awake no matter how hard he tried. Every time his eyes sprang open, he fought as hard as possible to stop falling back to sleep, but he was dragged back to the depths every time and only realised when he jolted awake again. In those few seconds of consciousness, he was terrified by his helplessness.

“There's something wrong with me” he insisted, hearing how his voice slurred when he spoke and feeling a spike of terror. It bought him an extra few seconds.

“Nothing is wrong with you,” Ermal said gently, stroking his hair. “You're tired.”

“I must have an infection.”

“Then sleep. That's always the best medicine. If you wake up and need anything, call for me.”

Ermal turned to leave, but Fabrizio grabbed his hand in a panic. “Don't let me die during the night” he begged.

“I won't.”

He was surrounded by a warm embrace and sweet whispers that everything was fine, he’d be okay in the morning, Ermal would be here all night…It was a relief to stop fighting and slip away.

**

Everything was blending into each other so it was hard to tell where reality ended and dreams began.

He stared straight into the black eyes of the wolf at the bottom of his bed. It was motionless, watching him curiously. He should be terrified right now, but he didn’t feel at all threatened. More than anything he was bemused.

“How did you get here?”

The wolf didn’t respond.

**

He awoke in the morning to a cold breeze blowing through the house, and raised his head to see the front door lying open. Frowning, he lifted the blanket and immediately retreated, feeling how cold the air was compared to his warm bed. He heard a gentle snore and saw the reason for the heat. Ermal had snuck in beside him last night. Fabrizio ruffled his hair and the other man weakly swatted at him, without waking up, and disappeared further under the blanket.

Fabrizio got up and sprinted to the door, closed and locked it, and briefly considered whether to light the fire. He was no match for the morning chill, however, and he couldn't stay out for longer than thirty seconds. He hurried back to bed and gratefully cuddled up to Ermal's warm body. The brief time spent in the air had already cooled his feet to the point where Ermal yelped and woke up as soon as they touched him. He tried to roll away, but Fabrizio held on.

“You left the door open last night” he said.

“I put it on the latch.”

“It must have blown open. It's put the fire out. It could have set the house on fire, or let in an animal, or worse. That was a dangerous thing to do.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Let me warm my feet and I'll forgive you.”

He put his cold toes back on the roasting legs, and Ermal winced, but allowed him to do so. It was a lovely feeling and his feet were warmed again within seconds. He left them there to be sure they’d absorbed as much heat as possible, and then released Ermal. The other man rolled over to face him. “Do you feel better now?” he asked.

“Still a little groggy, but better than yesterday. How are you?” Fabrizio gently touched his cheek. “You look pale.”

“I'm fine.”

“You shouldn't have come into the bed with me when I'm sick.”

“I wanted to. Your bed is warm and I like sleeping beside you.” This second reason was delivered in a shy whisper, spoken more to the blanket than Fabrizio. He put an arm over Ermal and moved closer until they were chest to chest, stroking his hair.

“I’m going to ask something really stupid now” he said quietly.

“Not without a ring” Ermal mumbled.

“What?”

“Never mind,” Ermal shifted and looked at him alertly. “What is it?”

“I already know the answer, but you didn’t…” Fabrizio broke off, almost too embarrassed to continue. “No animals came in last night, right?”

“No, I think I would have noticed that” Ermal confirmed with a smile.

“Of course,” Fabrizio sighed and turned on his back, rubbing his forehead. “I had a dream. That wolf was standing at the bottom of my bed…”

“That was a fever,” Ermal interrupted. His face appeared above Fabrizio. “And also a clear sign that you’ve been thinking about it too much. Perhaps I could distract you.”

Fabrizio smiled at the teasing tone. “I bet you could” he agreed.

Ermal’s seduction techniques relied far more on flattery than anything physical, but as Fabrizio was discovering, five minutes of being told he was beautiful and made to feel like it was true could reduce him to nothing faster than any fancy tongue work or hip swivels. Fortunately Ermal had disrobed before getting into the bed last night so he didn’t have to waste time getting his clothes off, and his lover’s lithe fingers made short work of what barriers remained between their skins.

As they lay together afterwards, Fabrizio now thoroughly distracted, the sound of Christmas carollers drifted into the room and reminded him of the date’s significance. “Thank you for looking after me last night,” he said. “I didn't have a chance to wrap your present, but I don't think you'll mind.”

He pulled away and sat up, Ermal following suit. “You got me a present?” he asked.

“Two, actually,” Fabrizio reached under the bed and pulled the cloak out, dropping it in Ermal’s lap. “I made one and bought one. They don't quite go together,” he added apologetically, taking the rose pin out of the drawer and placing it in Ermal’s hand. “I was looking for a brooch that could actually hold it closed for you, but they all had these sparkly false gems in them so this was the best I could find.”

Ermal looked at the gifts and then turned his head to Fabrizio. There were tears in his eyes. “It's beautiful. They're both so wonderful. I can't believe you got me Christmas presents.”

“Oh, please. I may be a mean-spirited miser, but I have a lot of generosity to spend on you.”

“Bizio, I don't deserve you.”

Fabrizio gave him a stern look. “Don't start playing that silly game,” he warned. “You've got me and that's all there is to it.”

**

Fabrizio had never had a more enjoyable Christmas than this. Ermal stayed with him from 25th December until 6th January, the longest stretch of time they'd ever spent together, and Fabrizio was pleasantly surprised to find that he never tired of his company.

There was a fireworks display in the piazza to ring in the New Year. They weren't able to go, not with that crowd there and the risk that people would be watching. Fabrizio instead brought Ermal to the hill outside the village where he'd once spent hours waiting for a picnic that never happened.

“I've never seen them so close before,” Ermal remarked as they waited for the display to start. “Sometimes I could see them in the valley, but they were so small that...Wow! Look at the colours!”

He pulled away from Fabrizio, walking to the edge of the hill to see them a few centimetres closer. “Oh, that one's my favourite. It's like being inside a star.” So saying, he actually reached up as if trying to capture some of the glittering colour for himself. “Ooh, it's like a weeping willow tree,” he said as another firework went off. “So much gold...”

He watched curiously as barely visible rockets shot upwards, disappearing against the darkness, and began to frown at the lack of an explosion when suddenly the sky as far as they could see was filled with reds and blues. Ermal's face lit up in awe, and he jumped as booms followed the lights, as loud as if God himself was applauding.

Finally there was only peaceful silence and the outline of smoke in the air, and Ermal turned with a grin. “That was spectacular” he said.

The silence was broken by the solemn peal of the church bells, ringing once, twice...

“The new year is almost here” Ermal said, returning to Fabrizio’s side and taking his hand.

“If I'd known what this year would bring...”

“Me too.”

_Five, six..._

Fabrizio looked at him and felt such a rush of love and gratitude that he could hardly contain it. “Thank you for the best year of my life.” He didn’t know he managed to say that without emotion getting the better of him.

“Maybe the next one will be even better.”

_Ten, eleven..._

On the stroke of midnight, the bells went wild and distant cheers rose from the piazza, all of which faded to background noise as their lips met.

“My mother always told me to start the New Year as I mean to go on,” Ermal said, still so close to Fabrizio’s face that he could feel his lips move. “I think I have.”

“Apart from the world with only me for company?” he joked.

“Yes. I like it that way.”

“I like it that way too.”

Ermal moved back enough to let Fabrizio see his smile, and his heart nearly stuttered to a stop at the thought of how lucky he was to have this piece of sunshine in his life.

“My Bizio...” Ermal murmured, throwing his arms around his neck. “Nobody else's Bizio.”

Fabrizio grinned happily and hugged him, leaving a kiss in the sensitive spot under his ear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Almeno tu nell'universo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How are you liking the fluff? Well, I hope. If you look closely, the dark clouds are encroaching on the sunny blue sky ;)

Fabrizio certainly hoped they weren’t starting the New Year as they meant to go on. He was starting to think he’d hallucinated the entire winter, and only the constant creeping paranoia reminded him that it had been real. Spring had come around, the snow had melted and life in the village had returned to normal. Now that the animals were out of hibernation and having babies, his main source of income was getting rid of pests. It was hard to think of the young animals waiting for their mothers who would never come back, and he would have preferred to chase them off, but most of the farmers wanted proof of death in return for payment. Fabrizio was starting to hate them, and not only for that reason.

With the snow gone, the biweekly markets were back. Ermal still came to sell his wares alongside Fabrizio, which was the only time they really got to see each other these days, and he was too aware of all the eyes on them to enjoy the fact. The conversation with Claudio had shaken him. It was too dangerous to have Ermal in the village without a reason, too dangerous to spend any time with him outside work, too dangerous to have him in the house in case someone saw him leave or enter. Even the octagonal house wasn’t safe anymore. When Fabrizio went hunting, he returned promptly so no-one could accuse him of doing anything else. The shield business had died. The orders had stopped coming in, and maybe that was because they’d got around everyone in their village and their extended family, but it was impossible to exclude suspicion as the cause.

If the consequences had landed only on his shoulders, Fabrizio wouldn’t have cared. He would look at Ermal when he spoke to him, and although he wouldn’t be rebellious enough to parade him in view of everyone, he would certainly visit him in the forest. Only Claudio’s words stopped him. He wouldn’t put Ermal at risk for anything in the world, no matter how much it hurt to push him away. He wished he could explain why he shook his hand away or wouldn’t meet his eye, but surely it was better than making him afraid. There was no need for that. Fabrizio could protect him without him ever needing to know.

There was a limit to Ermal’s tolerance, of course. He figured that sooner or later there would be, but where Fabrizio might lose his temper and demand an explanation, Ermal took a far different approach. Fabrizio had been out looking for a wild boar that was digging up bulbs, although he still hadn’t found it as the sky began to turn red. He walked back into his house and immediately felt something strange. Nothing was out of place, but the air was warmer than it should be and he could sense a presence. Someone was here or someone had been. He gripped his gun.

“Show yourself” he warned.

“I’m up here” Ermal called back cheerfully. Fabrizio looked up at the mezzanine in disbelief, left the gun aside and climbed the ladder with mounting excitement. Ermal was sitting cross-legged on the floor, a canvas leaning against the wall in front of him. Fabrizio recognised the image. It was a portrait of a man in a green coat, holding a shotgun in one hand. His expression was less than pleasant, his eyes glaring angrily and his mouth set in a thin line.

“This is a surprise,” he remarked. “Do I really look so sour?”

Ermal looked back and smiled. “Not always. I copied it from the photo in your bedroom.”

“That explains it.” Fabrizio sat down with Ermal between his legs, hugging him from behind. Technically speaking, the painting wasn't quite fit to hang in a gallery. Fabrizio's skin was unnaturally smooth and too brown, his nose had a strange curl at the end like a caricature of an aristocrat, and the background was a patchwork quilt of colours. However, he was clearly identifiable as the portrait's subject and he was overwhelmed that Ermal had even thought to paint him.

“Would you like to explain why you’ve broken into my house?” he asked.

“You’ve been ignoring me and I’m sure it’s not because you want to. You’re worried about people seeing us together, right?”

He sighed, the wind taken out of his sails by Ermal’s understanding. “Am I so obvious?”

“No, I’m just very intelligent,” his lover replied, turning in his arms to face him. “What’s going on then?”

“Nothing. A few old women gossiping, that’s all” he said.

“That’s not all.”

God, he loved this man more than he thought it was possible to love anything. It was slow progress, but he was starting to realise that Ermal’s innocence and naivety was merely skin deep. There was intelligence that went to the bone and, Fabrizio thought, he really had a tendency to underestimate his lover. He should work on that.

“Claudio said people might hurt you if they feel their suspicions are confirmed. I don’t want that to happen” he admitted.

“What about you? Will they hurt you?” Ermal asked immediately.

“Maybe, I don’t know,” Fabrizio shrugged. “It’s less likely. I didn’t want you to find out.”

“Bizio, you don’t have to protect me all the time. I can take care of myself” Ermal said sternly.

“I know” he muttered, looking away.

“You know, but you don’t want to know,” Ermal remarked. “If you keep me informed, I can act appropriately. So now I know that it could cause trouble if I’m seen here, but here I am.”

“Here you are. I’m really happy about that,” Fabrizio said. “Are you staying over?”

“I was going to, but if it’ll cause problems…”

“You’re here now,” Fabrizio interrupted. “You might as well stay. I’d like you to.”

Ermal smiled. “In that case, I will.”

“Will I paint your portrait too?” Fabrizio offered.

“Okay.”

“I need you to come down to the kitchen. It's too dark up here.”

Over several hours, he rendered the image of a curly-haired man in black overalls, his hair falling from either side of a matching hat. He was sitting on a kitchen chair and the joy on his smiling face radiated from the canvas.

“Perfection” Fabrizio declared, setting down his palette. Ermal jumped up and came to look.

“Oh my God, I look like a jolly cook.”

“I think you look good, far better than me.”

“That's because you can actually paint” Ermal retorted.

“No, it's because you look so happy and I look like a miserable old man.”

His lover gave an equivocal hum. “Are you going to sell them? Or this one anyway?” he asked.

“No,” Fabrizio said at once. “I don't like the thought of you hanging up in a stranger's house. I'd have to sell the two as a pair so my portrait can make them too scared to look at you.”

“Is my painting so bad?” Ermal asked, pretending to be offended. “Perhaps my cooking can make up for it.”

“Oh, definitely.”

Ermal ruffled his hair and started looking through the cupboards. Fabrizio watched, struck by how homely and familiar the scene was. It was the kind of mundane domesticity that he’d never thought he could experience, and even if it could never be daily life, he could enjoy this small taste of being ordinary.

“How was your day?” Ermal asked conversationally, only adding to the effect.

“Tiring,” Fabrizio took the seat that had just been vacated and stretched his arms behind his head. “I’m looking for a wild boar at the moment. All the new mothers are trying to find easy food in the village and the farmers do not like that.”

“Poor mamas” Ermal said sympathetically.

The thought of those mothers suddenly triggered the memory of his wolf. Where was she? Admittedly she wouldn’t have cubs when there were no other wolves to mate with, but Fabrizio was thinking back and realising how long it had been since he’d seen a sign of her.

“I haven’t heard anything about Gigi” he remarked.

“She might be hunting in the wild” Ermal suggested.

“But there’s been no sign of her all winter. Aside from those paw prints I found, there’s been nothing, and wolves don’t hibernate. What has she been eating?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’m getting worried now. What if she’s dead?”

“If she is, what difference does it make?”

“All the difference,” Fabrizio retorted. “I can’t stand the thought of her starving or freezing.”

Ermal didn’t reply for several seconds, apparently unwilling to engage on the subject of the wolf anymore. “Why?” he said suddenly.

“Huh?” Fabrizio looked back at him, unsure what he was talking about.

“What difference would it make to your life if she is dead?”

“Nothing,” Fabrizio retorted. “I just don't like the thought of it. She's a beautiful creature and I hope she's okay, that's all.”

Ermal narrowed his eyes at him, and then broke into a smile. “Well, she's probably out there thriving,” he said. “You don't need to see her again to imagine that.”

Fabrizio turned away and rolled his eyes. “Doesn't mean I don't want to” he muttered under his breath.

**

Fabrizio watched a shaft of sunlight creep across the floor towards them. It looked like an illustration from a children's Bible, and he could imagine that anyone standing in its path would take on a holy aspect, even though he'd already tried that in childhood and it didn't work. It only blocked the sunlight.

He wouldn't mind if something came to block it out now, because those curtains weren't doing the job. “Busy old fool, unruly sun,” he whispered. “Why dost thou shine here to us? Go and bother someone else.”

“Are you talking to the sun?” a sleepy mumble asked from somewhere beneath him.

“I'm reciting poetry.”

“Shall I compare thee to a summer's day, thou art...something to do with flowers.”

“More lovely and more temperate, rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, and summer's lease has all too short a date.”

“How do you know all of this stuff?”

“Before you, my chosen bedmate was a big book of poetry.”

“Where is it so I can kick it?”

“It's hardback and very thick. Kicking is not advised.” He smiled and kissed Ermal’s cheek before wrapping him in another hug. “Anyway it's gathering dust now. You're far nicer to cuddle. Not so many sharp corners for one thing.”

He felt rather than saw Ermal’s smile. “I have to go” he said reluctantly.

“No, you don't,” Fabrizio wrapped his legs around Ermal’s to stop him moving. “I'm going to keep you here. I'm going to chain you up.”

“Bizio, you say the nicest things,” his lover sighed, pressing his face into Fabrizio’s neck. They lay there for an undetermined amount of time, drifting in and out of sleep, before finally Ermal lifted his head to look out of the window. “I really have to go. People are going to see.”

“You could stay.”

“It's not a good idea. Think of the scandal.”

“I know,” Fabrizio sighed and let him go. “Would you stay if it wasn't for the scandal?”

“Yes.”

Fabrizio kissed his cheek, and then moved down his neck. It was impossible to resist. He'd never felt this kind of all-consuming passion for anyone. Even when he'd forced himself to try stepping out with a girl, it had been a stiff and awkward affair, and he never knew where to put his hands. With Ermal, his hands had a life of their own. He wanted to touch him all the time, to stroke his hair, hold his hand, kiss every bit of skin he could reach. It was frightening to realise how deeply and dangerously he had fallen for this man.

He was half on top of Ermal now, his lips marking a path along his chest, and they were almost at the point of no return. Ermal seemed to realise it too, as he started to wriggle and push Fabrizio away.

“Really, no,” he protested, giggling. “I may never ride a horse again.”

“I'll take that as a compliment.”

He raised himself on his arms and drank in the view, Ermal replete beneath him, looking up at him with a satisfied smirk.

“God, you're so beautiful.”

“So you tell me,” his lover replied, stretching leisurely just to tease. “Flattery will get you nowhere. I still have to leave.”

He rolled off the bed and Fabrizio didn't try to stop him. He watched as Ermal pulled on his trousers and boots, and went hunting on the floor for his jacket.

“Can I come to see you tomorrow?” he asked. The other man's head popped up from beside the bed, an adorable sight, and he smiled.

“Tomorrow,” he murmured, as if thinking it over. “Yes, I don't think I'm doing anything tomorrow. What time can I expect you?”

“Say midday, one o'clock at the latest” Fabrizio suggested. He could take care of Signor Grossi's wild boar issue in the morning.

“Come by at one. I'll make us a picnic,” Ermal said, trying and failing to hide his excitement. “Meat and wild berries.”

“Come here” Fabrizio said softly. He reached out for Ermal's hand and gently pulled him, so that he was leaning over the bed and close enough to be kissed. It was a sweet goodbye kiss at first, but as usually happened, a small taste of Ermal only served to unleash the tidal wave of longing and made Fabrizio want more. He pulled him closer and deepened the kiss, almost causing Ermal to fall on top of him. His lover wasn't unwilling, judging by the fingers snaking in his hair, but it was he who severed them. He pulled back and held Fabrizio away from him by the shoulders.

“This is ridiculous,” he said. Breathlessly, Fabrizio noted with pride. “I'll never get out of here at this rate.”

He pulled his jacket around himself, clearly making a point, and left the house with a determined farewell. Fabrizio was embarrassed by the lovesick sigh he heard coming from his own mouth. He was well aware that he was becoming the kind of sap worthy to be laughed at in the tavern, but he couldn't help it. Ermal had a gift for making him melt like ice in the sun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nine out of ten fictional surveys agree that kudos and comments are the best source of updates :)


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive

Fabrizio had taken charge of providing the meat for their meal, being the one with access to the butcher’s. He hadn’t gone crazy this time- just one small steak to share, a chicken leg for Ermal and a package of beef cubes for himself.

As he walked down the slope, the door of the octagonal house opened and Ermal came running towards him. Fabrizio stopped, laughing at the sight. Ermal didn’t slow down at all until he arrived in his arms, pressing their lips together in greeting.

“What a welcome” Fabrizio declared, surprised and delighted.

“I missed you” Ermal said.

“You missed me?” he echoed, smirking even while he felt his heart speed up. “We saw each other last night.”

“I know, but I did.”

“You should have stayed with me.”

“I know that too” Ermal whispered. He closed the small gap between them and Fabrizio felt soft lips against his again. He sank into them as heat rose in his stomach and into his chest. There were too many feelings to name them all, too many to cope with, and the only place they could go was into his hands and mouth. He needed to breathe, but Ermal was more important than oxygen. _I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you._ It was the only thought he was capable of forming, circling endlessly.

“Are you hungry?” he asked instead, holding up his packages. “I brought meat.”

“Brilliant. I have berries.”

Ermal ran back to the house and Fabrizio followed, smiling to himself. His beloved soon emerged with his arms full of wooden mugs. One contained blueberries, the other strawberries, and the third a mixture of blackberries, watermelon chunks and grapes. He left them with Fabrizio, went back inside and came back with a canteen of water.

“Wow, you have a lot of berries. My offering doesn’t look so good now” Fabrizio said good-humouredly.

Ermal shrugged and sat down next to him. “Meat is expensive. Berries are cheap” he said, popping a blackberry into his mouth. Fabrizio lifted one and raised his eyebrows hopefully. Ermal grinned, leaned back and opened his mouth wide. The game began.

Twenty minutes later, the picnic was gone, either into bellies or lost among the grass. Ermal had a blade of grass in his hands and was blowing thin notes every so often. His head was in Fabrizio’s lap and he was carefully combing his fingers through the curls, listening to the sound of distant birdsong and the wind rushing through the trees.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” Ermal asked, breaking the silence between them. Fabrizio smiled down at him. “You miss me that much?” he teased.

Ermal clicked his tongue and waved a hand behind him, lightly tapping Fabrizio’s knee. “Don’t be arrogant. Are you busy?”

“I’ll be at the market in the morning and I’ll probably be servicing orders until sundown” Fabrizio replied.

“What about after sundown?”

“Are you suggesting anything?”

“Only if you aren’t busy” Ermal demurred.

Fabrizio hummed thoughtfully, idly pulling stray curls back from Ermal’s face and tucking them behind his ears. “I think I might look for my wolf” he said.

“Your wolf,” Ermal echoed mockingly. He craned his neck to look up at him. “Why?”

“I’d like to know she’s alive,” Fabrizio sighed. “And I seem to have the best chance of seeing her on full moons.”

“Are you going to kill her?”

“No,” he replied without hesitation. “I made a promise to you.”

Ermal beamed up at him. “Are you sure that’s how you want to spend the night?” he asked slyly. He sat up and hugged Fabrizio, leaving soft kisses on his cheek. “I could make some chocolate chip cookies, fresh and warm from the oven.”

Fabrizio laughed and leaned away. “You will not seduce me into changing my mind this time, no matter how tempting you are,” he declared. “This is my best chance to look for her. You and I can spend all of the other nights together if you want.”

Ermal pouted adorably. “There are three of us in this relationship.”

“Maybe, but not everyone has an equal slice of the pie.”

“You’re right. That wolf has a bigger piece than I do.”

“That’s not fair” Fabrizio retorted.

“Where will you look for her?” Ermal asked, ignoring his reaction.

“I don’t have a set of coordinates. I’ll just look for tracks and see where they lead. Why?” Fabrizio asked. “Do you want to come along?”

Ermal shook his head quickly. “I was just being curious, taking an interest in the things that are important to you.”

“I appreciate that, especially when I know you don’t share them.”

“There’s nothing wrong with hunting if it’s for a reason,” Ermal said pointedly. “I’ll never be okay with you killing an animal only because you want to own it, so remember your promise. If you see her, leave her alone.”

**

The forest was black. The full moon provided only enough light to see how dark it really was. The sky, the trees, the berries growing on the bushes, was all black. The moon itself looked like a piece of ice in a starless sky, matching the falling temperature. There had been no clouds today, nothing to hold onto the sun’s heat, and so it had all vanished as soon as its source departed.

Fabrizio thought dreamily of the warm cookies he could have been eating now, and if he were honest, he couldn’t think of a good reason why he was sitting in a cold ditch instead. Suppose he did catch this wolf, what would he do with it? He couldn’t sell it. (Well, he could, but he wasn’t going to.) He would have it and that would be…fine. Great, even, but it would be over. He wondered if the challenge of the hunt had played a large part in his enjoyment of it, and what he would do if he actually succeeded. He would go back to hunting solely for profit and perhaps that wouldn’t be a bad thing. He would no longer have to split his time between work which earned money and praise, and a wild goose chase which left him more angry and frustrated after every failure. He could spend more time with Ermal, no longer having to hide things from him…Although he wouldn’t be able to bring him home anymore, he realised. The sight of the wolf would upset him.

Sitting in a ditch with an owl hooting overhead, Fabrizio had a feeling like awaking from a dream in which the most illogical things made sense, but in the light of day were clearly nonsense. Ermal didn’t want him to hurt this wolf, had told him repeatedly to stop, and threatened to make Fabrizio choose between them. If he ever found out that Fabrizio was still hunting, let alone that he’d actually killed the animal, he could lose the best thing in his life. The thought nearly knocked him off balance. He couldn’t lose Ermal. That would be unbearable. Happy memories filled his mind and every one featured dark curls and a bright smile. To think that he would risk throwing that away for a ghost!

He stood and shouldered his gun. If Ermal wanted a sign that he mattered more than an animal, he was going to get one. It didn’t matter that it was too late for cookies, so late that he might be asleep already. Fabrizio just wanted to see him.

The octagonal house was in total darkness, no candles or lanterns at the window. Fabrizio had known that Ermal would be asleep. Nevertheless he knocked the door gently, just in case his lover wasn’t yet in deep slumber and would be able to hear it. There was no response. He turned the handle and opened the door slowly, intending only to poke his head inside and see if Ermal was on his pallet. The first thing he noticed was the smell of blood. It was impossible to see anything without a light, but he was too familiar with that unique metallic smell not to recognise it at once. He pushed the door open fully and lifted his lantern to survey the room. It was empty.

Fabrizio took one step, and then two steps inside, turning his head and his light. “Ermal?” he called quietly. He turned the lantern to the cooking area. There was no meat that would indicate hunting had taken place. The blanket on the pallet was rumpled, but Ermal wasn’t there. The floor had no bloodstains on it. Still Fabrizio could smell it from somewhere inside the house. He started to perform a slow circuit, inhaling deeply with every step to figure out where it was coming from. It was strongest in the area between the writing desk and the fire pit, but there was no actual blood anywhere, only the smell.

The pillow on the pallet had no head print on it, which meant that Ermal had never gone to bed, and now he was nowhere in sight with the smell of blood in his house and something was very wrong. Fabrizio stopped and stared at the wall and tried to find a scenario where this wasn’t the case. Ermal could be…But no, he couldn’t be. He wouldn’t be outside at this hour, but he wasn’t inside and he hadn’t gone to bed, and there was no innocent explanation that made sense.

And then he became aware that not every breath in the silent space came from him. That wasn’t Ermal’s breathing. He knew how that sounded. It wasn’t even a human’s. This was deep and rough and panting, like an animal. He turned his head towards the sound and found himself looking at the door to the outhouse. In all the months he’d visited this house, he’d never entered that space. The door was always closed and Ermal said it only contained tools. There had never been a reason to look inside. There was something in there now, something that Fabrizio was certain shouldn’t be. He readied his gun, slowly walked across the floor so that his steps made as little noise as possible, paused outside to steady his heart rate and be sure that the animal was definitely behind that door, and kicked it open.

He walked into a scene of horror. There were deep scratch marks marring the wooden floor, a few smears of dark red against the walls and door, torn pieces of clothing strewn about. In the middle of it all was a small grey wolf, thin and hungry. Bright eyes stared at Fabrizio, filled with surprise and fear.

_Ermal._

Where was he? There was no sign of him, not even a body. He looked at the blood, the wolf, the torn clothes, and his muscles reacted before his mind could. He lifted the gun and aimed. The wolf bounded to one side as he pulled the trigger, causing a small explosion of splinters as the bullet embedded in the floor. Fabrizio swivelled the barrel. The wolf jumped at him, knocking him to the ground. His arms and legs were trapped under its deceptively solid weight, and all he could see was a set of fangs bared inches away from his face, close enough that he could see the individual hairs on its snout. The animal gave a low, guttural growl and then leaped over him, escaping through the open door.

Fabrizio flipped over, but the wolf had vanished before he could even attempt to ready his gun again. He slammed his fist into the floor and looked around. His eye caught on the glint of a black stone in the moonlight. Ermal's ring, the onyx and white gold that he’d won at the horse race. He held it between his fingers for a moment, feeling his eyes sting and squeezing them shut against the tears. That only lasted for a few seconds. A few deep breaths were sufficient to push them back and then there was nothing left but rage. He put the ring into his pocket and climbed to his feet.

He didn’t remember the journey back. One moment he was looking at the trees, and then suddenly he saw houses in front of him. He marched directly into the centre of the village, his mind roiling without a single coherent thought beyond the need for revenge, and knocked on the door of the mayor's house. The anger was good. He liked the anger. It kept the pain at bay.

The door was pushed open by a man with a large moustache and a nightcap on his head, the bobble swinging around his ear. It would have been funny at any other moment.

“Do you know what time it is?” he demanded.

“I need to tell you something,” Fabrizio replied. “A man-eater has come into the village.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed and I'd love to know your thoughts :)


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You'll have to face the future when the truth comes out

He joined the hunt, of course. Part of him wanted to be the one who found the creature and delivered retribution, but that didn't matter so much as making sure it faced justice. With all the men in the village patrolling, there was no way that it could escape, and yet somehow it did. Forty men combed the forests for three hours and found no trace of it.

The search was called off at sunrise, to allow the men to return to their ordinary work. “We'll search again tonight,” Fabrizio declared. No leader had been officially appointed, but as the professional huntsman among them, the other men had followed his lead. “Meet in the piazza at sunset. It'll have to show its face at some point.”

There was a bloodthirsty cheer that would once have disturbed him, but now he felt a great deal more sympathy for those villagers who had burned the wolves during his childhood. He wouldn't do that if he got his hands on it, but he'd certainly make it pay. The pelt would fetch a high price at the market.

The group dispersed and then there was nothing. Nothing to occupy his mind, nothing to fill the hole in his chest, just nothing.

_What will you do to fill that hole?_

He wanted to fall to his knees and cry until he had no more tears to give.

_What if by getting one, you lose the other?_

He'd always suspected that God was a sadistic bastard who liked playing tricks on people, but this was beyond the pale. This was evil.

_As the Bible says, a man who lies with another will be cast into Hell for all eternity._

He truly never thought that the preacher could be correct, but how else to explain this? If not Hell, this must be Purgatory. Hell might be preferable. If the preacher had spoken true after all, Ermal would be there waiting for him.

Fabrizio headed slowly for home. He was about three steps away from his front door when he heard his name, whispered on the wind, and stopped. For a second he could have believed it was real, but the truth soon made its presence felt and he closed his eyes against the fresh ache in his heart.

“Bizio…”

That one sounded a little too real. He opened his eyes and looked around, and nearly screamed. Ermal was peeking around the corner of the house, the walls and darkness hiding him from the street. Fabrizio hastily left the gun against the front door and ran to him, pulling him into his arms. Ermal leaned against him like a limp doll. He was real. He was actually real and alive, not a ghost or a hallucination, and Fabrizio didn’t care how this could be true as long as it was. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried about anything, but now the tears wouldn’t stop and he was in danger of hurting Ermal with the force of his embrace.

As the first wave of relief passed, his view of the world widened enough to note that Ermal was still just leaning against him without making any effort to reciprocate the embrace. He pulled back and saw that he was wrapped in a blanket, unable to raise his arms as he tried to keep it around his body. Fabrizio could see his shoulders poking out and his bare legs uncovered at the bottom.

Underneath the blanket, he was naked.

In a house of cards, sometimes only the gentlest touch is required to bring the whole structure crashing down.

Ermal was naked like the day they'd met, the day he'd first seen the wolf, he'd shot at the wolf, he'd found Ermal with a bullet wound. Ermal who drank like an animal, ate like a savage, had lived in the wilderness all his life, could see in the dark and could somehow detect things before it was possible to see them at all. Ermal who had told him repeatedly to stop looking for the wolf, took strange sicknesses at unusually regular intervals, had vanished entirely from his home and left behind a wolf that was somehow standing in a room that had no windows and a door that locked from the inside. And that wolf which had been so unnaturally clever and managed to evade him for three seasons as if it knew about his plans to capture it.

He thought he might scream, cry or throw up, in any order or combination. None of this made sense, and at the same time, everything did.

“Gigi?”

Ermal stared at him as if he didn't quite know who he was, and then his eyes filled with tears. He shuffled forward and pressed his head into Fabrizio’s shoulder. “You lied to me,” he said, muffled by sobs and leather. “But then I lied to you too, so maybe it’s fair. Why did you lie?”

“I’m sorry, my love. I mean...No, that is what I mean. I thought I lost you.” He held him tighter and let the curls run through his fingers, gratefully inhaling their scent. He smelled of earth and sunshine and something that was uniquely Ermal. He would know that smell even in his dotage.

“You nearly did.”

“Are you hurt?” Fabrizio pulled back to see his face, stroking his hair, looking for injuries. Ermal shook his head. “You missed,” he said. “It’s actually a really terrible reflection on your abilities.”

**

Fabrizio sat at one side of the kitchen table, Ermal at the other. All of the shutters were drawn although there was presently nothing to see. Anyone walking by would think they were playing a very intense game of poker. Ermal had acquired some of Fabrizio’s old clothes to cover his modesty, although he still held onto the blanket. It transpired that he’d stolen it from someone’s washing line so they would have to figure out how to sneakily replace it at some point, but that was hardly the most pressing concern right now.

“So you were the first boy, the one who started it all?” Fabrizio asked. Ermal shrugged and nodded. “I guess so.”

“That doesn't make sense.”

“Why not? It's written down in the history of the village. People went missing, but they never found the bodies.”

“Is it still out there, the original one, the one that did this?” He still felt strangely reluctant to say the word. ‘Werewolf’- it was too strange, like saying that vampires were real. Maybe vampires were real. Maybe there was a whole separate world of monsters that lived on the periphery of human civilisation. “Do you know?”

“I’ve never seen or heard any others. I think he was killed along with the other wolves.”

“And the other kids? Did any of them…?”

Ermal opened his mouth soundlessly and then sighed. “Bizio…” he said gently. “Werewolves don’t hunt for fun, or for any reason other than…food…”

“Okay,” Fabrizio interrupted quickly. “Then how did you survive?”

“My mother hid me and fed me. She was no hunter, but she crept into cowsheds at night and took blood, not enough to hurt them, and made cakes out of it. That was enough to keep me sated during the full moon so I didn’t try to leave or make noise.”

“And then she died and you had to hunt for yourself” Fabrizio said. Ermal nodded. “I was terrible at it,” he confessed. “I learned how to satisfy myself with fish, but not before you found me.”

Fabrizio wouldn’t have asked, afraid of insulting Ermal and even more afraid of hearing the answer, but he felt a fierce wave of relief to know that his love wasn’t a killer.

“I’m so sorry, Ermal.”

“It’s okay,” He reached over the table and held Fabrizio’s hand. “I knew what the risks were. It's all in the past now, yes?”

Fabrizio shook his head, but kept hold of Ermal’s hand. He should pull away, but he didn’t seem able to do that. Ermal would despise him soon enough anyway. “I told them about you. Or not you, but the wolf. I thought it had killed you.”

Sure enough, Ermal’s hand retreated. “Killed me? There was no body.”

“There was a funeral last time and you weren’t dead,” Fabrizio retorted. “Oh God, what have I done?” He buried his face in his hands. “Why didn’t you tell me? For all this time, you’ve been listening to me and all along…”

“How could I tell you? You were trying to kill me!”

“And you honestly think I wouldn’t have stopped? You didn’t think I cared about you more than a pelt?”

“I didn’t know. You were so obsessed. How did I know you wouldn’t just try to kill me anyway because I’m a monster?”

Fabrizio shook his head vehemently and ran a hand through his hair. “So why tell me now?” he demanded. “You could have come up with another story. You’ve been doing it for months.”

“Because I realised I can’t keep doing this. One day I’m going to be unlucky. Month after month, I have to put you off, I have to trick you and it’s exhausting! I hope I can trust you, Bizio, but if I can’t, please do it quickly.”

He stood up, seeing Ermal flinch as his chair scraped on the floor. “I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

“You can’t promise that.”

“I…”

“Don’t,” Ermal stood and put a finger on his lips. “Don’t say things you can’t mean.”

“I can do what your mother did, hide you and feed you” he insisted.

“I'm not a cub anymore. People will notice.”

“It's better than hunting out there. They're looking for you now. They'll kill you.”

Ermal didn’t say anything, but he didn’t need to. They both knew whose fault that was. “It’s the only thing I can do,” Fabrizio said. “I love you. This is a shock, but it doesn’t change anything.”

“Really?” Ermal stared at him. “But…I…I’m the monster in the storybook. I’m the one they torture and burn.”

“You’re no monster,” he replied. “And if anyone tries to hurt you, I’ll kill them.”

“Don’t say that,” Ermal left a kiss on his cheek and pressed his face into Fabrizio’s neck. “Please don’t say that.”

Fabrizio hugged him tightly. “When you're in wolf form, do you know me?” he asked.

“Yes. It’s still me, just in a different body.”

“I'm sorry I shot at you.”

“Twice, three times if you count the night we met,” Ermal remarked, and Fabrizio was sure that he didn’t imagine the hint of teasing in his voice. “I forgive you.”

“When will it happen again?”

“In exactly one month minus a day.”

“And it's over for now?”

“Yes.”

“Alright,” With reluctance, he backed away and took Ermal’s hands. “I have to go out with these men and wander aimlessly for a few days. You stay here and make sure no-one sees you.”

“Can I sleep here tonight?” Ermal asked shyly.

“I would love you to sleep here tonight.”

“Oh, and Bizio…” Ermal paused and then grinned. “Thank you for saying it back.”

**

Fabrizio didn't sleep well that night. He kept drifting off and then jerking awake, listening to the noises of the countryside. The gentle rustling of the trees, the distant whine of a fox, the whispering of the hot night air. Ermal was sound asleep beside him, curled up with his face resting on his arms, lupine habits still clinging to him.

His lover was a werewolf. This felt like something which should be a bigger deal than it was. Certainly if he allowed himself to really think about what this could mean, it painted a bleak picture. Both of their lives would be in danger if the secret ever came out, but he'd already undergone this crisis when he realised he was attracted to men. Only the charge and method of punishment had changed, and if it hadn't stopped him then, why would it stop him now?

The other problem was taking on responsibility for keeping a wild animal concealed and fed so it didn't go out hunting and put itself in danger. He knew Ermal wouldn't attack people, but taking livestock was no less frowned upon. That was a slightly more difficult concern, but not insurmountable. It was what he did for a living. So what if he had to go out more often? He'd do it. He'd do anything for Ermal. All practical thoughts fell away in the face of how stupidly happy he was when they were together.

He did his duty for two weeks, wandering around the forest and performing in front of the other men. He wondered if they noticed that the fire in his belly had cooled or if they cared. Certainly they seemed to have enough fire and fury to make up for it. The only person who ever probed him was Claudio, who showed up at his door to ask if he wanted to talk. Fabrizio had to spend an hour trying to strike the balance between grieving too little and too much, all while Ermal was hiding under the blanket in the next room. If he could lie his way through that, he figured he could do anything.

The hardest part was leaving Ermal alone while he led the people on their wild goose chase. He almost couldn’t bear to do it. The only way to be assured of his safety was to have him close by, which was ironic really considering he was responsible for his lover’s need to be protected in the first place. That was the kind of thing that he simply didn’t have the mental space to process, so Fabrizio focused solely on the present and what he could do now.

“It may be nesting. We can try again in summer” he said at last, and the men believed him. He knew more than they did, after all. It bought time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please kudos, comment and let me know if you enjoyed. I'd love to hear your thoughts.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fooled by the oldest trick in the book.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! This is your warning that this chapter will be quite angsty and contains violence. That may not be what you were looking for in these times, but it was written months ago and that’s where the plot is going. I hope you enjoy anyway.

The full moon had come and gone twice, and Fabrizio had read all of the Gothic horrors he could find in an attempt to figure out what to expect. Some said that it was an almost instantaneous change, others that it took several minutes of screaming agony. None of them said the truth, which was that it took several hours of Ermal silently crying and gasping as if he wasn't getting enough oxygen around his body. It was hard to watch for so long, feeling useless, especially when Ermal forgot himself and started calling for help. On the other hand, the advantage was that it allowed Fabrizio time to go out and get fresh meat for his wolf. Once Ermal was immobile with pain, he could leave and get a few rabbits, conveniently missing the worst parts of the transformation and returning to a fully-fledged wolf curled up in his mezzanine.

It was a remarkable feeling to have a wolf. He wasn't sure if he was allowed to think that, knowing that it was Ermal in there and his mind hadn't changed with his body, but he had fantasised about seeing this animal up close for so long and it had finally happened in a way that surpassed all of his hopes. He wouldn't have been able to sit with a real wolf and read aloud to it, with its heavy head resting on his legs, listening to it sigh happily as he stroked its fur.

The other thing the novels failed to warn of was that turning back was exhausting. When daylight came and Ermal returned to his usual form, he'd be incapable of doing anything but sleeping on and off for hours. It was a perfect opportunity to do some work, but Fabrizio found himself betraying his productive intentions. Instead of going out to service orders, or even carving something he could sell, he would sketch nonsense and remain alert for when Ermal would wake and call for him.

Today was another of those days. He came in at sunset to find Ermal hunched up in the corner, shivering.

“Are you sick, love?” he asked. He put the gun up on the wall and knelt to stroke his hair.

“I think it's going to happen soon. I really want some meat.”

“I can get some. Go up to the mezzanine.”

He took the blanket off the bed and carried it up to the attic space, where Ermal was already taking his clothes off at a lethargic speed. When he was disrobed completely, Fabrizio put the blanket over him.

“I’ll bring some books up in case you get bored,” he suggested, heading back down to do exactly that, returning to find Ermal already lying down and grimacing in pain. “I'll be back in three hours, four at the most. Anything else I can do for you?”

“No.”

“Stay as quiet as you can.” He bent down and kissed him, and then did it again. “In case I don't get a chance tonight.”

Ermal smiled and reached for him again. “I love Bizio” he mumbled against his lips.

“I know you're only saying that for a prime cut.”

“No...” Ermal sighed and wrapped the blanket around himself, pressing his nose into the fabric. Fabrizio ran a hand through his curls and finally forced himself to leave.

His hunting was successful. He managed to secure two rabbits in as many hours, enough to keep his wolf happy and sated. For the rest of tonight, he planned to pull out his sketchbook and draw nonsense. He had pages of the stuff now. They were nothing, merely colours. On one page, diagonal stripes in an approximation of a rainbow. On another, boxes of colour in different sizes. They weren't pictures. They were barely even art, just shapes and sketches, but they were all he felt able to do. He was already engaged in work, looking after Ermal, and taking on another job right now would be stretching himself too thin. The smooth stroke of a brush was calming to the mind, accompanied by the gentle huffs of a sleeping wolf. It felt like a sanctuary, a little bubble where nothing could get at them, where they could just be without having to hide anything.

With every step closer to the village, he felt his mood improve until he was within view of his house. The sight before him immediately caused the happiness to flee.

“Thank goodness you’re here,” the mayor called, moustache wiggling. “Do you have your weapons?”

“Why do you have those rabbits?” Francesco demanded.

“For food.”

“For whose food? Who asked for rabbits?” He turned to the assembled crowd, throwing his arms wide for an answer.

“For my food,” Fabrizio retorted. “I also need to eat. Can you explain why there's a gathering in front of my house?”

“The man-eater was seen inside” the town policeman explained.

“That is impossible.”

“We saw it with our own eyes” Alessandro replied lazily.

Fabrizio rounded on him. “Why were you inside my house?”

“We weren’t. We saw it through the window. Stefano has been watching the door to make sure it can’t escape.”

They were liars. Ermal wouldn’t have come out of the mezzanine…would he? What if he’d taken too long to find the rabbits and the hunger had got the better of him? Fabrizio pushed through to his front door, elbowing Stefano aside, and reached for the handle. “I’ll check for myself. Thank you.”

“You shouldn’t go in alone,” the mayor urged. “It might not be safe.”

“I am not about to let a crowd of people trample all over my property. I’ll handle it.”

He stepped inside and firmly closed the door, turning the bolt. He thought about pulling the curtains in the bedroom, but that might look like he had something to hide. No, he would act totally normal. He put his gun up on the wall and climbed the ladder with the string of rabbits. A pair of dark eyes glittered in the shadows and the wolf moved towards him, growling hungrily. Fabrizio put a finger to his lips.

“You’ve got to stay quiet, okay? Don’t make a sound.”

He left the rabbits on the floor and descended the ladder again, taking a deep breath to compose himself, and then opened the door. “There’s nothing here. You must be mistaken.”

“I see.” The mayor nodded, pressing his fingers nervously against each other. “The boys were very sure about what they saw, and it makes sense. Your home probably smells of meat.”

“Any animal would go to the butcher first,” Fabrizio retorted. “They’re lying. They like to make trouble.”

“Your house is closer to the forest than the butcher” the policeman suggested.

“If there was a wolf in my house, I think I would have noticed.”

“It’s up here! He’s feeding it!”

He spun around and there was Francesco on the ladder, Alessandro and Stefano behind him, and the back door open.

“What the f…!” His own door pushed him aside as suddenly his kitchen was besieged by people. He saw Francesco trying to climb into the mezzanine and made a run for him, but was held back by the officer. Several villagers moved to assist, blocking him in.

“Leave him alone!” he yelled.

“It’s vicious!” Francesco retreated back into the kitchen at speed. “I need a knife!”

“You’re scaring him!” Fabrizio insisted. “I swear on my life that he’s harmless. Let me go to him. You’ll see.”

Time seemed to stop for a moment as a whole roomful of eyes turned to stare at him, horror and disgust twisting their features. It was every bit as terrible as his nightmares.

“My God,” Francesco said, in a tone of voice typically reserved for looking at roadkill. “We all knew you had secrets, but we never would have imagined…”

“Let him go” the mayor interrupted. The incredulous gazes turned on him and he glared back, moustache bristling authoritatively. The grip on Fabrizio was released. Despite the mayor’s order, there was something about this situation that set him on edge. His gut was screaming warnings at him, but there was nothing he could do. He moved past the silent looks and climbed into the mezzanine. Ermal was pacing frantically, whining and giving short barks at nothing. He stopped short when he saw Fabrizio.

“It’s okay. Stay calm. We’ll sort this out.”

Ermal replied with a yip that indicated his doubt. Fabrizio moved closer and stroked his head. The wolf obligingly rubbed its furry head against his hand. Fabrizio knelt down and Ermal rested his head on his shoulder.

“There we go,” Fabrizio said soothingly. “You see, he’s no danger to anyone.”

Ermal suddenly snarled angrily and pulled out of the hug, straining to get past Fabrizio.

“Whoa!” He put his arms around the wolf’s neck to hold him back. “Stop it! What are you doing?”

He was no match for the animal’s muscles and Ermal managed to pull free of his restraints, planting himself in front of Fabrizio and continuing to growl at the two men who had joined them in the mezzanine. Francesco had a gun, and it wasn’t his own. Fabrizio recognised the rifle that until recently had been resting on the wall brackets behind them. Alessandro had a hunting knife.

“That’s my gun!” Fabrizio stood and tried to move towards them, but Ermal neatly sidestepped to block his way. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Stand aside” Francesco ordered.

“I won’t let you hurt him.”

“That’s not up to you. The safety of the people comes first.”

“I’ve just shown you that he isn’t a threat!”

“Wild animals can’t be tamed,” Alessandro retorted. “Just because you can scratch its ears doesn’t mean it isn’t a danger to everyone else. Look at it!”

It was true that Ermal was a frightening image, with his fur standing on end and his teeth bared grotesquely. Fabrizio didn’t know what he was playing at. Any wild animal would respond aggressively to a threat, but Ermal wasn’t a wild animal and he knew how important it was to look harmless right now. He was going to provoke them into attacking if he didn’t stop.

“He’s frightened!” he protested. “Put the weapon down and he’ll be calmer.”

As he spoke, he tried to move around Ermal and put the wolf behind him- they might be a little more hesitant to shoot if he was in the way- but to his surprise, Ermal turned his head and snapped at him. He recoiled instinctively. “Hey!”

“Do you see? It’s a danger to the village!” Alessandro declared.

“He’s not,” Fabrizio pleaded. “I don’t know what’s gotten into him. He’s not like this.”

A gunshot exploded in the confined space, blasting the ears of those close by, followed by a loud yelp of pain that sounded far too much like a scream. Fabrizio lifted his head to look for Ermal and found him backing into a corner of the mezzanine, whimpering pitifully. The three men present made a dash for him and Fabrizio got there first. He fell to his knees, stroking the silver fur unthinkingly, at a loss for what to do.

“Ermal, I'm here. Look at me, love. I'm here. It's going to be okay. Stay awake. Please stay awake. Don't...Don't...”

His hand found a patch of fur that was warm and wet, and he looked down to see blood on his palm. Ermal was staring up at him, chest heaving. _Fix this_ , his eyes seemed to say. _Make it stop._

He pressed down on the wound and Ermal shrieked in pain. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Don’t leave” he whispered. A heavy paw landed on his shoulder, pulling him down as if the wolf was trying to hug him. The cock of a gun reminded him that other people were present, and he turned to face them, making sure to keep Ermal shielded behind his body.

“He did nothing to you!”

“Get out of the way!”

“Get out of my house!”

Alessandro came from the side, lifting the hunting knife aloft, and Fabrizio turned to stop the blow. He didn’t get a chance. He was hit from behind and thrown aside, and Alessandro found himself contending with a large, wounded and furious animal. His back hit the floor and Ermal held him down, snarling into his face.

The gun fired again and Ermal stumbled sideways from the force of the impact, struggling to regain his feet. Alessandro regained his and, apparently unable to take a hint, tried to stab him again.

This time he was tackled by a human.

Fabrizio was always mildly surprised by how fast he could move when Ermal was in danger, and this was no exception.

They rolled across the floor before Fabrizio gained the upper hand, slammed his opponent’s head into the ground and punched him in the face, before grabbing the knife and holding the blade to the man’s throat.

“I told you I wouldn’t let you hurt him. Put the gun down or else.”

He had no plan for what he was going to do. He only hoped that they would think better of testing him.

“Or there is a third option,” Francesco remarked. Fabrizio felt the barrel against the back of his head. “You’re no less of a danger than that…”

What was no doubt going to be a fine monologue was interrupted by a yell and animalistic growls behind Fabrizio. He turned to look. Ermal had Francesco's arm in his jaws and was violently jerking his head back and forth. The man was shrieking, but retained the presence of mind to lift the gun in his other hand, and brought it down against the wolf's skull with a horrendous crack. Ermal released his hold and backed dizzily into the corner, flopping onto his side as soon as he touched the wall.

Fabrizio stood, knife in hand, as Francesco turned the gun to point at Ermal’s head. He was cowering against the wall, crying and covering his face with his paw.

“You ruined my jacket, you filthy animal!”

Those were Francesco’s last words.

Even if a person has no intention to use a weapon, it’s highly likely that they will if that weapon is in their hands. A shout becomes a shot. A punch becomes a stab. It only takes one moment.

It was one stab in the back. It wasn’t an attempt to kill, but undoubtedly an attempt to injure and incapacitate. The village chronicles are clear on this point.

Francesco let out a horrible, hollow gasp and put a hand to his mouth as red seeped between his fingers. He staggered backwards and Fabrizio was able to see his eyes, white and wide with fear. He sorely wished he’d never seen that. The man crumpled to the ground and gave a few pathetic twitches, choking on blood with the most hideous noises Fabrizio had ever heard, before he stopped moving altogether.

It seemed to happen in a matter of seconds.

Alessandro paused to stare in horror, first at his companion, and then at the bloody knife in Fabrizio's hand.

“Murderer!” he shrieked.

“Wh...?” Fabrizio hardly recognised the scene before him. “No...No, he...”

He looked back at Ermal, searching for something to ground his free-floating mind, and saw that the wolf's head now lay on the ground. His eyes were closed and his chest was no longer heaving those deep breaths.

“Ermal?” He put a hand in the fur, shaking him gently. The body was still warm, but he wasn't moving, wasn't responding, wasn't making any noise. Fabrizio shook him again, harder, calling his name repeatedly and getting no response. “No…No, no, no, no, don’t you dare, don’t you dare leave me. Look at me, Ermal. How dare you disobey me? Look at me!”

He pressed his face into the thick fur. “Don’t do this to me, don’t do this to me, don’t do this to me…”

“Put the knife down!”

He turned. The mezzanine was now a lot more populated with villagers and several guns pointing at him. The grief vanished in an instant, replaced with such total numbness that he felt as if a guillotine had come down and abruptly severed him from the rest of the world. He'd always been a hard person, but he'd never felt this level of nothing before, and it would be liberating if it wasn't so painful.

He gave up without a fight. What could he do, force his way through a crowd of people to escape? What was the point? The only good thing in his life was gone. The best thing, the only thing he could do, was get them away from Ermal and hope that whatever justice they saw fit to dispense would reunite him with his lover.

He lowered the knife to the floor and pushed it away with his foot. Suddenly there were hands everywhere, holding him, pulling him. He almost fell down the ladder. He barely saw anything through the tears, barely felt anything through the numbness that had encased him. He had no clue of where they were taking him, and apparently neither did they, until one man shouted.

“Bring him to the barn!”

He was compelled across the field to Mr Martelli’s cow shed. Some of the men held him with an agonisingly tight grip while others searched the area. They found a length of rope and threw it over the beam. He didn’t understand what was going on until he saw the noose being tied. Self-preservation kicked in and he recoiled against his restraints, but was pushed back and forced up to his doom.

“What is going on here?”

The crowd briefly stopped their activities, directing their attention towards their priest. Claudio stared at the scene with his mouth agape.

“This man is a murderer” someone explained.

“And worse.”

“Doesn't he deserve a trial?” Claudio asked, walking into the barn. The crowd stepped aside for him to pass.

“No need,” the man to Fabrizio’s right replied. “The crime was committed in view of everyone.”

Claudio was standing in front of him now, staring into his eyes to the exclusion of everyone else, asking for some explanation or confirmation that a mistake had been made. Fabrizio looked away and heard his friend heave a shaky breath.

“In that case, I must give him Last Rites” he declared.

“You will not,” a man snapped. The family resemblance indicated him to be a relative of Francesco. To Fabrizio’s surprise, and even more to Claudio’s, he pulled the priest back by the shoulder. “He is beyond forgiveness.”

“No-one is beyond forgiveness” Claudio protested. The village policeman stepped in, removing him from the grieving man’s grip. “Then God can make his own judgement,” he said in a deceptively gentle tone. “Here on Earth we make our own kind of justice.”

“A condemned man deserves...”

“Nothing!” Francesco’s relative interrupted. “A condemned man deserves nothing by virtue of the fact that he is a criminal and he is condemned.”

There was a low muttering of agreement and a few approving exclamations from the crowd. Fabrizio felt a small bolt of fear for his friend. The tide could very quickly turn and put Claudio up here with him. _A mob is as wild as a wolf_ , his mother had said, _and in many cases far more dangerous._

“Father Bielli, you are encouraged to leave if this offends you” his executioner remarked. It was a clear warning.

“Claudio…” Fabrizio forced the word out in a voice weak from crying. “It’s okay. Just go.”

Claudio looked at him for several seconds before turning to the crowd. “And who remained to tend to the victim, or did you all abandon a dying man to watch the spectacle of vengeance?” he demanded. “It is not only this man who will answer to our Creator for what has happened today. We will all meet his judgement and what will you say for yourselves?” He turned his back before anyone could respond and touched Fabrizio’s cheek. “May God have mercy on your soul.”

He walked away without another word and Fabrizio could only feel relief that at least someone he loved had been spared. He wished he’d told Claudio before how much his friendship meant to him, but it was too late now.

As the noose was pulled over his head, he closed his eyes against the crowd of angry faces and summoned Ermal’s bright smile to his mind, the smile he had shown when he woke this morning before moving closer to bury his face in Fabrizio’s neck. It was almost enough to distract him from reality.

 _Let me see him again_ , he prayed. _I will do anything if you give him back to me._

A long, eerie howl rose above the clamour and silenced everyone immediately.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a kudos or comment to make a writer happy. Thank you.


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Run boy run.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe this is nearly over! I've really enjoyed writing this and I hope you enjoy reading.

The people turned, parting before Fabrizio like the Red Sea before Moses, so he could see beyond the crowd. Beyond the barn doors, a small grey wolf was limping towards them.

“No...” A single broken word, pulled from him in a whisper, before terror stole his voice altogether and he couldn't yell to stop, don't come closer, run away, please.

The crowd were just as blindsided as him, and equally frozen. The only sound was the animal's breathing as it moved closer with its heartbreakingly lopsided gait. Fabrizio's vision began to widen, taking in the backs of so many heads, the way that surprise had loosened the grip on his arms. He realised what was happening.

The wolf stopped in front of the doors and for a second, the only movement was from heads turning to look at others, wondering what they should do. The animal abruptly lowered its head, wrinkled its snout and bared its teeth, releasing a rage-filled snarl that instantly chilled the air.

Chaos ensued at once. There were screams, shouts, people bumping into each other as they tried to run, the men fumbling with their weapons. No-one held onto Fabrizio. He didn't waste a second of time, pulling the noose over his head and bolting through the crowd. He caught sight of Ermal already turning to run.

“Go!” he yelled. “Don't stop! Don't look back!”

He took off in a different direction to Ermal, hearing gunshots beginning to ring out, not knowing which of them was being shot at. He ran through the village, past the empty market stalls and the houses, catching a glimpse of his own back window through a passageway and feeling a sharp stab at the thought of his weapons. There was no time to stop and fetch them. He imagined the mob would burn his house to the ground later, get rid of all traces of whatever evil business they believed him to be guilty of. He hoped his guns would explode and kill them all.

He made it out to the fields and hopped a fence, running across the open grass and concentrating on nothing except the treeline. He felt like he was about to cry with fear, not for himself since what happened to him really wasn't a priority, but for Ermal. Ermal who could have disappeared into the forest and lived out his days in safety, with no-one looking for him and the miniscule chance of being found by accident. Ermal who had instead put himself in mortal danger to save Fabrizio.

_I will never forgive myself if they hurt him_ , he repeated like a mantra. _I will never forgive myself._

He ran until his lungs felt like they were about to give out, and his legs actually did. From one stride to the next they turned to lead, and he was barely able to scramble to a hollow underneath a log before he collapsed. As soon as he was down, he knew he had no chance of getting back up even if they found him. This was the place where it would end, one way or another.

His lungs ached and he was powerless to stop himself gasping, dragging air into his chest. All he could do was hold a hand over his mouth as he waited for the feeling of impending death to pass. As soon as the worst was over, the sobs began to steal his breath all over again. It was impossible to separate the complex strands of pain and fear and self-hatred, so they all poured out in one never-ending torrent of hot salty water and muffled screams. At this moment, it didn't matter if they heard him. He would rather die now with the hope that Ermal was still alive.

And then he heard them.

Despite his thoughts of only a moment before, he sucked in a deep breath before putting a hand over his mouth. His other hand gripped the cross around his neck. They were maybe a few metres away, but close and loud enough that he could hear everything as they passed.

“He went this way!”

“Spread out and search the area. He might be hiding.”

“Check the bushes over there. I’ll check this way.”

Fabrizio lay as still as possible, pretending to be dead. He squeezed his eyes shut in case they could sense they were being watched, which only increased his terror. He inhaled quietly and exhaled slowly. Footsteps were all around him, shuffling leaves and cracking twigs. He thought they must surely be able to hear him.

“I see something over there!” Andrea’s voice rang out, and the earth shook as they stampeded in that direction. There was one crunch of leaves next to his head.

“Head east towards the mountains,” Andrea said quickly. “I’m going to direct them north.”

“Thank you.”

Andrea said nothing and in that moment of silence, there was a final goodbye. There was no need to say _"You can never come back", "I’ll miss you", "Be safe and don’t fuck up again"_. They’d known each other for so long that Fabrizio could hear the words in his old friend’s voice.

“Damn it! There are nettles everywhere back here!” someone yelled in the distance. Fabrizio had never been so grateful for other people's stupidity.

As soon as they were out of hearing, he stood and forced his legs to carry him further into the trees.

He didn't know how long he walked for, or how far, but the glistening water of a pond up ahead brought him back to reality. He collapsed beside it with relief and splashed the cool water over his face and hair, almost tempted to drink until he noticed that it was green and stagnant. His hand found the silver cross again and wrapped around it, issuing a silent request for help from whoever might be looking kindly on him, and then he lay down and allowed his eyes to close. The last thing he heard was birdsong and the sound of his own heavy breathing before, and here the storytellers differ slightly on interpretation, he fell asleep or passed out.

If the eardrum-splitting call of a rooster was the worst way to be woken, perhaps some concerned whines and a few gentle licks to the face were the best. Fabrizio grimaced and jerked his head away from the disturbance, his eyes blinking open to see grey fur and dark eyes hovering about a centimetre away. He sat up sharply, feeling his head spin, making the wolf recoil before it approached again and rubbed its furry head against his cheek in greeting. Fabrizio laughed quietly and embraced it around the neck, pressing his face into the fur and then stroking its head, ears and back. The wolf replied by leaving kisses all over his face with its rough tongue.

When they had finished introducing themselves, Fabrizio held the wolf's face between his hands just like he would with Ermal, and gazed into its eyes. They were a deep brown, but so wide and soft that there was no mistaking the humanity in them. The hungry black buttons of a natural predator were conspicuously absent, the only part of the disguise which wasn't perfect.

“Why did you do that?” he sighed, gratitude and lingering fear competing for dominance. “You're such an idiot. Let me see.”

The wolf turned to show his side. There was a round, red wound on his left flank. It would need alcohol, bandages and ointment, and a few days of rest which they couldn’t afford.

“We'll have to hide somewhere until you turn back,” Fabrizio said. “I can do something with it then, and I can carry you. You and I will have to go far away to have a chance.”

Ermal bumped his head against Fabrizio's shoulder. He sighed, stroking the furry ears. “I wish I knew what you were saying. Save it up and tell me everything in the morning, okay?” He kissed the top of the grey head and hugged him gently.

**

It wasn’t the first time he had slept outside, or even the first time he had slept in the hollow under a tree, but it was certainly the first time he had slept with his head resting on a warm animal. The fur was so thick that his head sank into it and the smell was so strong, not dog, but something undefinable. He wasn’t sure if it was a good smell or not.

He woke with a sore head and looked around to see a naked Ermal curled up on the leaves. Once again, he put his hunting jacket over the body and then lay down, gently running his fingers through the curls that fell over his lover’s face. He sighed deeply, but didn’t wake.

“Sleep it off, amore” Fabrizio whispered. He kissed his forehead and then crawled to his feet.

The forest was conspicuously silent with none of the usual birdsong that greeted sunrise. The start of a new day and, for the first time in his life, he had no idea what it would hold. He didn’t even know where their next meal would come from. Without his weapons, there was no chance of catching some food, unless… He put his hand into his pocket and emerged with a white gold ring, the black gem shining in the morning light. That was something anyway, money for food or a room if they needed it. Perhaps there were more items they could sell in Ermal's house. Going back to the village was impossible and Fabrizio was sure his home would have been burned already, but they weren't out of options yet.

He made his way towards the octagonal house, slowing his steps as the smell of smoke drifted up his nose, stopping entirely at the rumble of distant voices. Above the trees he could see thick plumes of black smoke. He stepped further into the undergrowth and made his way around the hill until he found himself in the copse of trees at the back. He watched in horror as flames leapt from the open windows and the top of the bell tower. Somewhere on the other side of the building were the familiar shouts of the mob, watching them burn or else waiting for them to run outside.

Fabrizio hadn't thought it was possible to feel any worse, to be the cause of any more trouble than he already had, but God seemingly never ran out of tricks. Ermal had managed to live in peace and secrecy for so many years, and Fabrizio had managed to destroy everything he had in the span of four seasons. He sat down on the ground and stared mindlessly at the crumbling roof. It made sense, maybe. He was a hunter and that was what he did, destroyed things to remake them as he wanted. He couldn't help himself. The only difference between him and any other man were his intentions, which would surely be a great comfort to Ermal.

_Yes, they found your house because of me and now it's been burned to the ground, but I didn't intend for that to happen._

After a few minutes, he realised it wasn't a good idea to sit around here and got to his feet, retracing his steps back to the tree hollow. Ermal was still asleep and Fabrizio decided not to wake him for now, leaning his back against the trunk and turning the ring around in his fingers. One life line was all they had. They'd have to use it carefully.

“Bizio...”

He looked up and smiled at the curly head arising from the leaves, rubbing his sleepy eyes. “Hello love.”

“Silver...” Ermal mumbled.

“What?”

“You told me to save up what I wanted to say.” Ermal crawled over and placed his head in Fabrizio’s lap. “Only silver bullets can kill a werewolf. Normal bullets only hurt.”

Fabrizio caressed his curls, considering the implications of that statement. “Did you hear me when I was calling for you?” he asked.

Ermal looked up at him. “There wasn't time to tell you it was okay,” he said apologetically. “Those people came so fast. I thought they'd leave us alone if they thought I was dead. I didn't want you to fight them.”

“No offence, but that plan would never have worked. They would have burned you and then the house, probably with me inside it. And to think that I wouldn't...”

His voice broke as the events of last night hit him again and he pressed a hand over his mouth. “Bizio?” Ermal sat up worriedly and hugged him. “It's okay, Bizio.”

“I killed someone,” he whispered. “You say you're a monster because of what you are, but you've never taken a life and I did! I can't even stay in Lazio. I can't believe I did that.”

“Oh Bizio, poor Bizio” Ermal sighed, rocking him back and forth in his arms until Fabrizio couldn't stand it anymore.

“I'm fine,” he insisted, putting effort into making his voice sound strong. “It all hit me at once. That's all.”

“It really wasn't a good plan,” Ermal admitted. “I came up with it very quickly though.”

“At least one of us had a plan.”

“What is our plan now?”

Fabrizio took a deep breath. Logic and planning- that was where his focus should be. The past was the past. There was no taking back his mistakes. He was alive, Ermal was alive, and that was plenty to be starting with.

“Our plan is to keep moving,” he said. “We have to get out of the valley. There are villages in the mountains and if we get there fast, we can rest before word arrives. After that, it's a long road to walk. I don't know where we'll end up.”

“It doesn't matter where we go,” Ermal said simply. “As long as I'm with you.”

And just for now, there was hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment and kudos. Thank you.


	25. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end of the rainbow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello :) We've reached the end and I'm very sad to close the book on this story, but I'm quite proud of what it became. As always, I hope you enjoy.

The story was first told in the official records of the village, and then shared by word of mouth between the inhabitants and those of neighbouring areas. As time moved forward and trade routes began to open between the valley and mountains, the tale was passed on further. In each retelling, it drifted a little further from the original record. In some versions, there was a supernatural element to the story, a suggestion that perhaps there had been a man hidden inside the wolf’s body. The younger ones liked that best. Their parents preferred to think that it had been a normal wolf, perhaps one raised from a cub, which had somehow been tamed by the hunter.

The relationship between man and beast was also the subject of speculation. Most of the supernatural interpretations painted them as brothers, and only decades later did anyone think it polite to consider another possibility. The one common thread all stories held, however, was that the man gave up his humanity for the one he loved. What exactly that meant, whether he also became a wolf or simply abandoned civilisation to join his companion in the wilderness, was never decided upon.

In recent years, historians have investigated whether there was any factual basis for the legend. Starting from the village chronicles, they found that there was indeed an eight year old boy named Ermal Meta buried in the churchyard. The name was unusual enough to suggest that perhaps there was such a man. It was even possible that he did survive the wolf attacks which were so carefully recorded. Burial alive wasn’t such a far-fetched notion in those days, and it might have contributed to the idea that there was something otherworldly about him.

There was no gravestone for any Fabrizio, although a plot was set aside for the Mobrici family. Again, if one were inclined to believe, perhaps there was a Fabrizio who left his village and was never buried with the rest of his family. It is hardly clear evidence of supernatural activity, however.

What the researchers did find interesting was a record from a village high in the mountains above the valley. Written in the late nineteenth century, it notes the arrival of two men from the forests. The younger of the pair- whose curly hair was regarded as worthy of mention- was half dead on arrival from fever and fatigue, and carried a number of wounds. He was tended to for several days before he and his companion vanished. The trail goes cold from there.

There is clear evidence that the men existed, historians conclude, but the records give no indication that anything highly unusual happened in that village. It is far more likely that they were driven out by some scandal, and the evidence of murder suggests the transgression which might have caused their troubles, but over time the story has been distorted into this strange tale of werewolves. It’s very exciting to imagine, they chuckle, but werewolves do not and never have existed.

Or perhaps the historians’ focus is too narrow. After all, if someone is running from scandal, supernatural or otherwise, why would they stay close to the same area?

On the island of Elba is a small house. It is made of brown stone with a red tiled roof, containing an open lower level and a single room upstairs. A tiny outhouse is attached to the side, built onto the main house, with two windows included to cast light inside. They are open for anyone to look into the room, but there is nothing to see but empty space. The house is built at the top of a path leading to the sea, with stunning views of the azure water, several large trees for shade and a small vineyard at the back. The only access is through the vineyard and, as there is no door at this side, visitors must pass under a small arch to reach the front if they wish to access the house or the path to the sea. As the house is set at the edge of a cliff, far from any towns, no-one has ever attempted to visit. The only people who know it exist are disinterested fishermen who sail past.

The two people who once lived there liked it that way.

**

The tomatoes looked well, some still small and green, but others full and red. Only a few more days before they could start to be harvested. Fabrizio ran a hand through his hair and waved his hat in front of his face a few times. There was something poetic about the fact that he'd ended up farming, the very path he'd spent so long trying to escape. Still, there were a few significant differences. He was working on his own land and not someone else's, for one, and he wasn't trying to make money. There was little need for any. The nearest town was on the other side of the bay if they needed tools repaired or supplies for the winter, but Ermal was a dab hand at sewing and they ate their own produce so clothes and food weren't an issue. They could stay on their little island for almost the whole year without venturing into the world, and often did. It wasn't a lonely life so long as the right person was by your side.

Satisfied, Fabrizio left his small crop and walked around to the front of the house. He leaned over the wall and squinted against the blinding sparkle of the sea. There was no sign of a boat out there and he had time for a brief flash of panic, before directing his eyes down to the beach. The boat was sitting in the shallows, the bow pulled onto the sand while the stern still bobbed freely. Fabrizio grinned and hurried down the path to greet his love.

It was just as well he did, as Ermal was hunched up on the stern, clutching an oar as a weapon. Snapping furiously at his feet was a large crab. Fabrizio rolled his eyes and reached in to pick it up. The crustacean, not anticipating this attack from the rear, wriggled its legs and clapped its claws indignantly.

“He's a big one” Fabrizio remarked, turning the crab to look admiringly, while it attempted to get at his nose.

“He's scary” Ermal replied plaintively. Fabrizio pulled a face and unceremoniously dropped the crab into the plastic bucket intended for this exact purpose. Never one to be defeated, the animal began to try knocking it over. His final escape plan was foiled by Fabrizio simply lifting it by the handle, offering his other hand to Ermal.

The boat was pulled ashore and secured to a rock, and they went back to the house together. The crab continued to kick at the bucket.

“Sorry, but I didn't catch anything else” Ermal said. Fabrizio wasn't sure if he was addressing him or the crab.

“We won't starve,” he said, running a hand over Ermal's curls and drawing him in to cradle his head. “Run ahead and start boiling the water.”

_The journey through the mountains had been hellish. Fabrizio had no weapons to catch food and he didn't have Ermal's skill in the rivers. They were lucky to get one fish every couple of days, and the rest of the time they lived on berries. Worse still, he had no medicine for the wound in his lover's thigh. By the second day of their journey, Ermal was lagging far behind, struggling to walk with his limp. Fabrizio supported him as much as he could, but as muscular as he was, he lacked the strength to hold him up for hours at a time. By the fifth day, Ermal couldn't move at all. They had stopped by a lake and Fabrizio used pieces of his shirt as bandages, dipping them into the water and warming them over the fire. Unfortunately it hadn’t been enough. Ermal had developed a fever overnight._

_It lasted for three days and nights. Fabrizio was unable to do anything except put cold cloths on his lover’s forehead and pray, or rather scream silently at God not to play this trick on him. Ermal kept calling for him or his mother, but he stared right through Fabrizio and didn’t seem aware of his identity. At night Fabrizio had to put his hand over his mouth so he wouldn't give away their position with his yells, and it broke his heart all over again to see his beloved squirm in panic._

_The fever passed as quickly as it had come, leaving Ermal with no recollection of what had happened. Fabrizio had returned from gathering firewood and found his lover sitting up, asking for water. Ermal didn't understand why he was hugged and kissed with so much relieved fervour, but it didn't stop him from enjoying the attention. They had stayed by the lake for one more day to let him gather strength and started moving again that night. Travelling in the dark lessened their chances of discovery and was much easier than walking in the midday sun, so they made a lot more ground even with Ermal's limp. By the twelfth day, they were within sight of a small town high atop the rocks._

_The town was too far away to ever visit the valley, or to receive visitors from down there, so word hadn’t reached them. Ermal received two days of medical attention before he was well enough to make the final leg of the journey. Five days later they reached the coast and cashed in their lifeline, arranging for the skipper of a small fishing boat to take them to the nearest island. Only then did Fabrizio feel safe in the knowledge that no-one would come looking for them, and the process of building a new life had begun._

Ermal already had the fire lit when he arrived, and the water sitting over it. Fabrizio brought the bucket inside to do what was necessary, away from Ermal’s sad eyes, and frowned at the ugly crab within as he pondered how on earth he was going to lift it out. Finally he took the plunge and managed to get one hand under the shell. The other was a little too slow and ended up trapped in a pair of pincers. He yelled in pain and recoiled, knocking the bucket down as he did so. The crab immediately made a dash for the door. Fabrizio made to give chase, but as he stepped outside, Ermal stood and put a hand on his chest to stop him.

“Let him go. He escaped fair and square. Let him live.”

“That’s very noble, but what are we going to eat?” Fabrizio retorted.

“We still have pasta in the cupboard.”

“We’re going to turn into pasta if we’re not careful,” Fabrizio muttered, pretending to be more annoyed than he was. His petty grumpiness usually made Ermal smile, and it did so now. “Besides, you spent all day on the boat to catch him. I mean, it.”

“It’s not a chore for me to spend all day on the sea, you know,” Ermal remarked. “And I don’t mind. Hang on, I’ll come help you get home.”

He addressed the crab with this last statement, turning to follow it down the path, but Fabrizio took his wrist. “No, he’ll snap at you and then I really will have to kill him. It! Fuck, I mean it!” He wrapped his arms around Ermal from behind and squeezed gently. “What have you done to me, turning me into some soft fool who treats food like it has feelings?”

“It’s not a bad thing to care, you know. It makes you very lovable.”

“I hope you love me,” Fabrizio nuzzled his hair. “I don’t know what I’d do if you didn’t.”

Ermal laughed and turned around. “Do you think you’ll ever stop?”

“Loving you? No. I think I’ve gone past that stage with you.”

A loud boom brought their attention towards the sea, followed by another with an explosion of green sparkles in the air. “What's that?” Ermal asked, already heading for the sea wall. “What's going on over there?”

“It could be anything. There are a lot of festivals during the summer” Fabrizio said, leaning against the wall beside him. He glanced sideways and saw Ermal looking anxiously at him. He gave a reassuring smile in return.

“I'm sorry” Ermal said quietly, wrapping his fingers loosely around Fabrizio's.

“Why?”

“I just feel bad that you're stuck here with me.”

“Where else would I want to be?” he asked, confused. Ermal shrugged. “I don't know. I feel bad that you'll never get to live a normal life because of me, and I know it is because of me,” he insisted, noticing that Fabrizio was about to protest. “No-one knows who you are here. The only reason you live on an island is to keep me company.”

“And because life would lose its taste if I didn't have you.”

“Okay, but what if you change your mind? What if you get bored and want to leave?”

“I wouldn't go anywhere without you, love.”

Ermal sighed, gazing towards the distant land across the water. The wistful look on his face was painful to see. “I couldn't live in a populated area,” he said at last. “It'd be too dangerous.”

“And that's why we live on an island,” Fabrizio replied. “I'm happy here, I really am. I don't care about whether or not I can go to a festival, but even if I did, there's no law saying we can't have one of our own.”

He smiled and offered his hand. Ermal giggled. “You're silly, Bizio” he said, giving his hand nevertheless.

Fabrizio began a simple slow dance, his hand around Ermal's back and his lover's head resting on his shoulder, watching the fireworks as they moved.

“Mama used to dance with me,” Ermal remarked conversationally. “Not like this though. We used to try to go under each other's arms really fast. It was funny.” He turned his face towards Fabrizio. “This is lovely.”

“Would it surprise you that my mother tried to teach me how to dance?” Fabrizio asked.

“Really?”

“Uh-huh. I hated it. This is the first time I've wanted to do it. I guess even things you never wanted to try, like farming or dancing or living on an island, become fun with the right person.”

Ermal smiled brightly, his eyes shining with emotion. “I love you, Bizio.”

“I love you too.”

There was a resounding boom and a flash of colour, and he glanced up only briefly before returning his gaze to the man in his arms.

Decades stretched ahead of them. Decades of waking up to a beloved face in the morning and kisses at night, of slow dances and thumbs stroking over knuckles, of finishing each other's sentences and quiet “I love you”s when the other did something simple. Decades too of falling asleep with a heavy wolf's head on his shoulder and the smell of fur in his nose, swimming in the sea under the full moon and losing every race, trying to escape kisses that were all tongue and the constant stench of meat that pervaded the house for days.

For right now though, there was one moment that lasted forever, and it was perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there you have it. That's the end. Thank you very much to everyone who's read this story, especially those who left kudos or a comment. Thank you JuliaBaggins and Pescatore for your support and enthusiasm. It really means a lot to me.
> 
> Please let me know if you enjoyed.


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